The Kiss
by LFairchild98
Summary: Bella Swan: Lit student, in her third year at NYU, meets Edward Mason: tattooed bartender and musician. After an explosive first meeting, Bella thinks that her passionate kiss with a stranger will be nothing but a memory. But, Edward has a completely different idea. With his sights set on Bella; will our sensible good girl,be able to fight off the advances of our handsome bad boy?
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer- all these obscenely good-looking characters belong to the one and only Stephanie Meyer!**_

 _ **Hello everyone! Here is a story that has been buzzing around in my mind for a while. Please let me know in the reviews if you like the story, and if you would like it to be continued!**_

 _ **Enjoy xo**_

 _ **1.**_

 _ **BPOV**_

The club is dark despite the multi-coloured lights that flicker over the dance floor, casting shadows over grinding bodies. The music: loud, battling the noise of chatter and the air is thick of cheap perfume mixed with the stench of alcohol.

There is a variety of people mingling around. The forty something's leering in the corner at a group of girls who wear slutty clothes and flirtatious expressions. Couples making out, moving their bodies to the music; girlfriends spinning each other around, drunk and giggling.

I run a hand through my hair, wishing that I had tied it up in to ponytail, or even better: a topknot. The club is boiling and after an hour of dancing my skin felt sticky from perspiration, wisps of my chocolate hair sticking to the back of my neck.

"I'm going to get another drink!" I yell to my best friend – Alice.

The pixie is however, a tad occupied, as she had managed to bag herself a tall, handsome blonde. I take her short, meaningful glance (as she generously pauses her thorough make out session) as a sign that she had heard me and wobble over to the bar.

I curse the high heels that Alice had forced me into earlier this evening. She had wanted to celebrate the start of our third year at NYU in style; so here I am -struggling in a pair of jewelled blue and silver, four-inch heels and body-con blue dress.

I feel good in the outfit, but I wish I were wearing my usual attire – my comfy, ripped jeans and graphic tee with customary sneakers. I guess it could be worse...

Several years ago, I would never have been able to walk in these heels, due to my incredibly clumsy nature. Simply going from one side of the club to the other was practically a death wish! Thankfully, those days were behind me, but I still have the rare moment where I trip over thin air.

When I make it to the bar, (injury free, might I add) I am happy to find it not as busy as usual. I sit on a barstool, leaning forward with the hope of gaining the bartender's attention.

There is only one person on duty, and his back is facing me as he wipes some glasses clean. I take the opportunity to appreciate his form.

He is tall… perhaps 6'2. He also has broad shoulders but a lean frame, which makes his black t-shirt stretch appealingly across his back. It highlights his muscles as he reaches up to a shelf above him. His ass is another thing worth noting, made all the more obvious by his fitted black jeans.

As if he feels my gawking, his head snaps in my direction. My breath catches as I see his face for the first time. And Jesus Christ, the man is _beautiful._ A sharp jaw line that could cut glass, high cheekbones, straight nose and hair; that looked like he had just rolled out of bed after an extremely satisfying night of sex.

The darkness of the club makes it hard to identify what colour his eyes and hair are, but I'm guessing he has light coloured eyes, a blue or green and dark hair.

His pretty lips slant up to a smirk as he swaggers over to me. Fully facing me now, I can see he has a few tattoos on his arms. On his right forearm, there is a detailed image of a guitar. Music notes swirl around it, flowing up his bicep, disappearing beneath the sleeve of his shirt. On his left arm, there is an angel; large wings yet faceless.

As I continue my shameless analysis of him, I fail to realise that he is now standing in front of me, patiently waiting for my order. Blood rushes to my cheeks in embarrassment making me look down bashfully. The smirk never leaves his face.

"You finished?" he asks knowingly, amusement clear in his velvety voice.

I must be the colour of a strawberry, "uh y-yes. Sorry, I must be drunker than I thought."

He laughs at that, but the sound doesn't sound genuine. It sounds… plastic; like one giant façade. "No worries, like most men, I actually enjoy being ogled by a beautiful girl."

 _Oh, this one is a charmer._ I roll my eyes at his cheesy remark, "wow, how many girls have you said that to tonight?"

He seems surprised at my blunt reply. I have a feeling that his typical response includes a lot of giggling and predatory stares.

"Of course, you are the only girl I have said that to," he defends mockingly.

"Of course" I say with equal sarcasm. My mind races to change the subject, "are you serving alone tonight?"

He shrugs, throwing a dishcloth over his shoulder "nah, Emmett is on a break and Mike is out back."

Despite having no clue to who these people are, I nod "cool."

A sudden awkwardness lingers "Uh, could I get a Jack and Coke, please?"

He grins at me cockily, "Are you trying to impress me?"

I blink a few times, confused "sorry?"

He snorts, "Oh cut the crap, how old are you? Nineteen? Or are you in high school, rebelling against daddy?"

Oh hell no. Who the fuck is this guy? And what gives him the authority to judge me, in such a patronising manner?

"Okay listen you condescending prick, you may be hot but that doesn't mean your lack of a verbal filter should be ignored. I am in my third year at NYU, majoring in English Literature, and twenty-two years of age. So, shut the fuck up and stop pretending that you know everything. Okay?"

Subconsciously, I know that him assuming I am young is just a mistake. Many people have assumed I was younger in the past, due to my petite frame and doe like eyes that create a sort of 'innocent, virginal' effect (as Alice had once so poetically put it.) It was a curse, that many people have assured me would later become a blessing.

Yet, his condescending look paired with a tone that made me feel seventeen again makes my blood boil. Screw him and his 'mightier that thou' attitude!

I hold his stare for a moment, giving him my best bitch glare.

His eyes lock with mine willingly as he searches my face, looking for something. Then they soften, and that smile that I have grown to hate (and really kind of like) over the past five minutes, spreads across his face again.

"You know, you look really sexy when you're mad."

The compliment sends a thrill through my body but I manage to maintain my serious, no nonsense expression, "And you are the smuggest asshole I have ever come across."

He leans forward, resting his forearms on the bar so that we are practically nose-to-nose; "You want to go out sometime?"

I cannot help the smile that steals across my face. I exhale slowly, scanning his gorgeous face to see if he is serious.

He is even _more_ beautiful up close. The light stubble on his chin; a small chicken pox scar above his left eyebrow; and his smile is a little crooked. But all of these imperfections make him even more stunning to me.

I lose my train of though as a familiar song plays loudly, making several people squeal in delight. The notes of Justin Beiber's remix of 'Despacito' fill my ears. Alice has always held a particular fascination of Justin. While I didn't really care for him, I had to admit that this song reminded me of great times on La Push beach, reading on the sand and splashing around in the sea.

"Sorry, but I have to go and find my friend."

I offer him a cocky smirk of my own, before turning. I flick my long hair behind me for good measure, walking to the dance floor. I can still feel his eyes me as I wind through the people, finding Alice and her new squeeze dancing closely.

"Bella!" Alice cries drunk, catching sight of me "dance with me!"

We laugh, instantly gripping each other's hands, moving our hips to the music, dipping and swaying to the lyrics.

 _My sunrise on the darkest day_

 _Got me feelin' some kind of way_

 _Make me wanna savor every moment slowly, slowly_

The heat is getting to me again so I raise one of my hands, picking up my curls and holding them up so that my neck is completely exposed.

Next thing I know, a warm body sidles up behind me. He feels hard against my back as he moves his hips with mine. I look up at Alice, my eyes screaming for help but her blonde has snatched her away from me again.

I turn ready to give whoever it is a piece of my mind but instead I meet the smile that I was becoming even more familiar with.

I look up at the God-like bartender, fire shooting from my eyes. Gripping the back of his neck, I pull his head down so I can whisper into his ear.

"Shouldn't you be at the bar?"

He turns his head so that his lips are against my ear, moving against it deliciously.

"I am on a break. Why didn't you answer my question?"

I shrug, my hips still swaying to the music, "conceited dickheads aren't my type. Don't you take no for an answer?"

His nose skims down my neck, tracing an imaginary pattern. I can barely breathe.

He tsks, "You and I both know your real answer."

Then I feel his tongue swiping around the shell of my ear, making my underwear increasingly wetter.

"Y-you don't even know my name" my voice shakes.

"Mmm… then tell me." He leaves open-mouthed kisses down my neck, fire trailing behind. My eyes roll into the back of my head, slightly.

"B-Bella."

I feel his smirk against my skin, "Bella – beautiful. I'm Edward."

"Great. Well… Edward, I really should get going… Oh my god."

He moves his left hand to my thigh, raising it to wrap around his waist so I can feel his rock, hard erection against my hot centre.

"Do you really want to leave, Bella?"

His presence makes me dizzy and if I stay any longer in his arms, I'll be begging him to take me up against a wall. Probably like one of his many other whores.

I shove away from him determinedly and step back, "I am not that type of girl Edward!"

He runs a hand through his hair, making his black t-shirt rise. The unconscious gesture reveals a hint of a sculpted v and dusting of hair, leading downwards. I unconsciously lick my lips at the sight.

Edward must have noticed because a confident look appears on his face.

"I never said that Bella. But I want you. I like your fire."

He steps towards me, taking control again. With firm but tender hands, he holds me by the hips "I like your eyes."

He kisses my eyelids as though to emphasise his point.

"Your hair," his fingers threads through my tresses.

"Your body… your blush."

"Edward…"

"One kiss. Please."

There is an unconcealed desperation in his words, which makes my hands automatically ball up into fists. One part of me – the sensible, good girl – screams to run from this tempting man. But this other, more hidden part, lusted for him. She wanted to feel him, all of him.

Gripping his shirt, I bring him closer "One kiss?" I breathe.

He pulls me tight against him, nodding eagerly.

Then all hell breaks loose.

I don't know who leans in first, but we are suddenly kissing. It's passionate – all lips, teeth and tongues. My legs wrap around him and his hands are on my ass, holding me at an angle that allows our kiss to go deeper.

His tongue dances- swiping against mine, trailing against the walls of my mouth. I see stars behind my eyelids, and an incredible feeling of completeness. Like he is my puzzle piece; everything just fitted together.

I can feel his hand trailing up, under my dress. The feeling of his skin against mine is indescribable.

Yet, it also makes me gasp with a sense of clarity.

This was getting out of hand, "I really must go. Sorry."

Dropping my hold on him, I use all my strength to push him away.

He looks completely stunned. I take advantage of his shock and turn, making a wild dash for the exit.

Thankfully, I didn't bring a bag with me tonight, choosing to tuck my phone and money in my bra; so there is no lingering.

I run past the large queue of people waiting to get in and hold my hand up, whistling loudly.

A yellow cab soon pulls up beside me; I jump inside with my phone in hand and ready to call Alice. She is probably going to catch a ride home with the blonde anyway.

As the car makes its way through Manhattan, I finally release a deep breath.

What had gotten into me? I _neve_ r made out with random guys at bars.

But as I press my fingers to my still tingling lips, there is no controlling my amazed laughter.

I wonder what Edward is doing now. Is he still standing in the middle of the dance-floor, shocked, lips tingling like mine? Maybe he had chased after me, but lost me in the throngs of people?

 _C'mon Bella, think about this! He is an incredibly handsome bartender, working in one of the most successful clubs in New York, surrounded by all the pussy he could want. Why would he want, boring old me?_

The thought dampens my spirits, and I shake my head. No. That would be the last time I saw Edward. I should just forget all about him and our kiss.

Anyway, New York was huge… I mean – what were the chances I would ever bump into him again?


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer- all these obscenely good-looking characters belong to the one and only Stephanie Meyer!**_

 _ **Hi guys! Wow, I am absolutely overwhelmed by your response to the story; I did NOT expect that! I hope you enjoy the next chapter of The Kiss, and PLEASE tell me what you think in the reviews!**_ __

 _ **Important note- this takes place ONE WEEK after the events of the first chapter.**_

 _ **In case, anyone was interested… Whilst reading the chapter, I listened to- 'Into You'- Ariana Grande (Fifty Shades Darker version), 'Toxic'- Marie Plassard cover and Crazy in Love – Sofia Carlberg cover.**_

 _ **Enjoy xo**_

 _ **2.**_

 _ **BPOV**_

My glasses slide down my nose, and my neck begins to ache. I shove my essay away lethargically, massaging my temples with my fingertips. Within the first week of being back at College, I already find myself swimming in work and desperately missing a summer full of indulgent lie-ins and relaxing days at the beach.

My exhaustion hasn't been helped by Alice's constant harassment over leaving the club last week. I roll my eyes, remembering her rant when she returned to our apartment the following day.

" _Well hello dear 'best friend'" Alice said snidely, stomping into my room._

 _I groaned as she pulled on the string of my blinds, effectively letting the bright light stream into my room, uninvited._

" _Ugh! Alice! What do you want?" I groused, blearily._

" _Where the hell did you go, last night? One minute you were there, and the next I'm getting a phone call with a half assed excuse about you fucking leaving!"_

 _I sat up on my elbows, raising an eyebrow, "if you didn't have your tongue down that blonde guy's throat, then maybe you would have known why I was 'fucking leaving'"._

 _She flushed a deep, violent red, looking rightfully admonished "alright, alright. I'm sorry. I was just really worried, and you seemed really shook up on the phone."_

 _She dropped on the bed beside me, her silvery grey eyes full of concern._

 _I suddenly felt really guilty about my hasty departure. My own cheeks turned pink, as I thought about my reasons for leaving the club the night before._

" _I'm so sorry Ali. I was just not feeling that great. It was so hot, and I was tired from the travel the day before... I guess I just wasn't in the party mood."_

 _Alice looked at me speculatively, searching for any other emotion. She had known me for three years now, having been roommates since our freshman year of college. She could read me better than anyone – even my mom and dad. I avoided her eyes, acknowledging that they were my biggest giveaway. My mother Renee would always comment on how they were like 'an open book': a true window into my mind._

" _You sure?" she continued to prompt._

" _Yes!" I sighed, "any way… you're back pretty late."_

 _She finally took the hint, as a large smile graced her face "uh, yeah. Jasper gave me a ride back..."_

And that had been the end of my inquisition. She had proceeded to gush about her tall blonde; otherwise known as Jasper Whitlock. Jasper is a year younger than us, and studying History at the University of Columbia. He's also, (according to Alice) absolutely incredible in bed and sure to be her future husband.

As Alice's best friend, I approve of Jasper. Besides him making her deliriously happy, he had also saved me from countless other probing questions on why I left the club.

I roll away from my desk and turn to stare out the window, into the dark street that is lit up with neon signs and brightly coloured billboards. I leave my mind to wander (not for the first time) to the man I had kissed at the bar. _Edward._ What would he be doing now?

Perhaps he is working at Eclipse; pouring scantily clad girls dozens of shots, with that pretty smirk on his face. Or riding down the busy roads of New York on a shiny black motorcycle… he definitely seemed like the type. Maybe he is sitting in his room strumming a guitar, identical to the one on his forearm.

Does he remember our kiss? The kiss that continued to burn my mouth hours later... The one that I fantasise about in the late nights, when I'm desperately trying to release some tension?

Probably not; but it's nice to pretend that he does.

To reminisce over the way he clung to my body, unwilling for me to leave. To remember the way he pleaded for me to kiss him, like it was a dying wish.

I am torn from my memories of his hand on my thigh and lips on mine, as Alice struts into my room.

I look up, surprised. I had been under the impression that she was spending the night at Jasper's. I am further stunned into silence however, when I see her attire.

She's wearing a long sleeved, fitted gold sequin dress that _should_ make her look like a disco ball. Yet, she somehow manages to look like a fucking movie star. Her short black hair is set in it's usual spikes; delicate and pretty. Then there is that scary scowl on her face. The one that makes me want to hide under the covers.

"We are going out."

"Uh. No _we_ aren't."

"Give me one good reason why we can't." Alice responds stubbornly.

"It's a Tuesday. Who parties on a Tuesday?"

"What's wrong with a Tuesday?"

"I have a 9am lecture tomorrow? And…"

"Isabella Marie Swan, you are a twenty two year old woman. For god's sake! Have you left this apartment, this week?"

"Y-"

"Other than for school and work."

Shit. I scrunch my nose up, thinking hard. Jesus, I really am turning into some old woman.

"Um. I went to the grocery store yesterday?" I offer pathetically "it's been a long week!"

"Okay, then it's settled. You are coming out with us. Tonight." She skips over to my wardrobe triumphantly, rummaging through my clothes.

"Us?"

"Yep!" she chirps, "Jazzy is picking us up in an hour. So hurry your pretty ass up, and jump in the shower."

I mock salute her, despite the fact that she is still working through my clothes like a tornado.

Ten minutes later, I am sat on my bed blow-drying my hair while Alice paints my toenails a siren red.

"So where are we going?" I shout over the noise.

She looks up excitedly, eyes dancing "You never guess what!"

I pause my blow dryer, "What?"

"Jazzy has gotten us into a _Cullen_ party."

Alice gazes at me with a sort of expectant look on her face. As if she is expecting me to faint, or jump up and down.

"What's a Cullen?" I wonder, pulling a hairbrush through my tangled locks.

She gapes at me, "Y-you don't know the Cullen's?"

I shake my head.

"Fuck Bells, do you live under a goddamn rock?"

"No, I live with you. And you have never mentioned a Cullen before."

"Yeah, but they are like New York royalty! Everyone knows them! They are practically on every magazine cover!"

I shrug, "what's so special about them?"

"Well, Carlisle Cullen is a world renowned heart surgeon, and he's married to Esme Cullen who is a really famous socialite. They have two children: Rosalie who is constantly pictured on the red carpet. She has modelled for the likes of Burberry and Chanel since she was ten years old! Apparently she's even dating Royce King!" her head snaps up, a painful look in her eye, "Please say you know who Royce King is…"

I roll my eyes, "Yes Alice, I know who Royce King is."

Royce King is a hot and upcoming actor from Britain, recently rumoured to be taking up the part of the new James Bond. You really _had_ to be living under a rock if you never heard of him.

"Good." She smiles contently.

"What about the other Cullen?"

Alice furrows her eyebrows turning her attention back to my nails "I don't really know much about Anthony Cullen, actually. He hasn't really accompanied his parents to any big events for years, so he isn't in any pictures. I think the last time he was seen with them, he was like twelve or thirteen? He apparently graduated from Julliard two years ago."

"Wow" I comment, impressed.

"Uh huh. So, anyway, Rosalie is holding a massive party at her penthouse at the Upper East Side tonight and Jazzy has gotten our names on the list!"

"How did he manage that?" I ask, bewildered.

"I dunno. He managed to pull a few strings. Apparently, he is quite good friends with someone in Rosalie's circle."

I nod, flicking the switch of the hairdryer back on.

Alice grins down at my newly painted toes, and pulls out the outfit she had picked out for me. It's a dress that I had bought months ago during a moment of weakness. It is extremely tight and black, with spaghetti straps that cross at the back. She then holds up of silver sandals, with a five-inch heel that make me want to cringe.

"Oh suck it up Bella!" she scolds, noticing the look on my face, "right, now that your hair is dry, while you straighten your hair I'm just going to do your make up. I'm thinking 'pin up glamour.'"

I nod, just going along with her. To be honest, you should never argue with Alice.

"I have a good feeling about tonight Bella! I can feel it."

Another tip: Never bet against Alice.

…

By the time we reach the party, it is almost twelve and I am already excited to jump into bed.

The building in which the party is taking place is… sophisticated to say the least. All marble floors and glass. I self-consciously tug the edge of my skirt. The dress reaches just below mid thigh, yet this place makes me feel like I need to wear a ball gown or something. I feel like Julia Roberts in 'Pretty Woman' when she walks into the posh hotel in her slutty clothes.

A comforting hand settles on my shoulder gently. I look up at Jasper, wondering if he could sense my nerves.

"You look lovely, Bella" he smiles kindly.

"Thanks Jasper."

He winks, his arm sliding around Alice "You ready darlin'?"

She beams at him, to which I smile at. She really does like him.

Alice has always had her fair share of admirers, but she had never shown a real interest in them. She had confided to me that her parents thought she was gay because of her lack of experience, but she was just 'waiting' for that special someone. And it looks like Jasper Whitlock is that guy.

"Let's go."

When we reach the top floor, it looks like the party is in full swing. Rosalie must have spent a lot of money on this thing because she has at least three or four bodyguards waiting for us at the lift, as well as a bar lit up with luminous blue lights and a live band.

The penthouse is brimming with people of a similar age to us, jumping up and down to the music. The lights flash wildly, glinting against the glass of a massive chandelier.

"Oh my god!" Alice squeals, "Are they New Moon?"

I look at the band and sure enough, the Grammy award-winning band is jamming out on a small stage.

The band is made up of four members- Embry on the drums, Quil on the guitar, Seth on the bass and lastly Jacob Black as lead singer. I held a little bit of a soft spot for Jacob, I mean… who wouldn't? Tall, dark and handsome, he is everyone's type. However, now looking at him in the flesh, I can't help but think that a certain handsome bartender is much more attractive.

"C'mon Bella, I love this song!" The pixie drags me by the hand to the dance floor. We jump up and down along with the massive crowd, singing along with Jacob's husky voice.

Yet while I'm dancing, I can feel the back of my neck prickle. Like someone is watching me. I turn around sharply, looking around, but there are so many people that I just shrug the feeling off.

"Okay guys!" Jacob shouts through the microphone, "I hope you are having a great night!"

We cheer in response.

"The guys and I are going to take a quick break, but please give a massive applause for our gorgeous, most gracious host – Rosalie Cullen!"

Everyone goes nuts as an absolutely stunning blonde saunters up onto the stage, kissing Jacob on the cheek.

She has long golden hair that falls like a waterfall down her back. She is also very tall – perhaps 5'10? –With an athletic body, emphasised by her undoubtedly designer red dress.

"Hello everyone!" she smiles "I just wanted to say- I hope you are all having a wonderful time!"

There's a lot of clapping and catcalling.

"I would also like to say a huge thank you to New Moon who have kindly agreed to perform! You guys are awesome. Now, enough of this, let's continue partying – yes?"

Whoops follow Rosalie as she blows kisses into the crowd, leaving the stage. Taylor Swift's 'Look What You Made Me do' filters through the speakers upon her departure.

Alice turns to me, "she is so sweet!"

I nod, "she was! I'm going to the bathroom quickly before the next set! You coming?"

"Nah, I'm going to check where Jazz has gotten to."

"Okay, I'll catch up with you later."

I hurry through the hordes of people, feeling a sense of déjà vu as I wobble. My trip wasn't as successful this time round, as I knock straight into a wall of steel.

"Shit! I'm so sorry!"

The body I knocked into shakes with laughter, two large yet warm hands holding my upper arms.

"Are you okay?"

I gaze up at the lead singer of New Moon – Jacob Black.

"Uh huh… y-you're J-Jacob Black."

I am completely gobsmacked and a tad starstruck. He is literally _right in front of me._ I look at him fascinated. His teeth are extremely white up close. They are almost as white as Ross's teeth in that one episode of 'Friends'!

"I sure am, and you are…"

"Bella."

He slowly releases my arms "well Bella, you need to be a little more careful; wouldn't want you to hurt a pretty hair on your head."

I flush; was the nation's heartthrob, man on hundreds of teenage girl's bedroom wall, _flirting_ with me?

"I'm kind of used to it, I'm a bit of a klutz," I admit, coyly.

He laughs, "Looks like you need someone to protect you! You enjoying tonight?"

I can feel his body heat radiating from him. My neck prickles again.

"Yeah, you guys were amazing up there! I'm a big fan."

"It's always great to meet a fan, especially one as beautiful as you."

The prickling sensation is starting to get even more uncomfortable, and I feel an overwhelming need to escape to a bathroom.

"W-well, it was great meeting you, Jacob, but I just got to get to the bathroom."

As I am about to make my escape, he holds onto my arm "I'll catch you later, yeah?"

What was it with these guys and their persistence? I may be a fan, but I was no groupie.

"Sure" I mumble, making a dash to the toilet.

I rub the back of my neck again. Why did I feel like someone is watching me? And why, instead of feeling freaked out, I was feeling a little turned on?

I shake my head at my own absurdity. Looking around for where the toilet could be, a shadowy, hall catches my eye in my peripheral vision.

I quickly move down it, desperate to throw some cold water over my face. Make up or not.

Then suddenly a hand shoots out from behind one of the closed doors, pulling me inside.

Before I can scream, a hand covers my mouth, pinning me against the door.

I stare up with wide eyes into a pair of familiar, light eyes. Edward.

"Shh!"

I struggle against his hand but I am trapped between the door and his warm body.

"I'm going to put my hand down, but only if you promise to be quiet."

I nod furiously.

"Promise?"

I nod again.

He slowly puts his hand down, releasing his hold.

"How dare you! You scared the shit out of me!" I whisper harshly at him.

He smirks, "nice to see you too, Bella."

I roll my eyes, crossing my arms across my chest, "what the hell? Are you stalking me now? What are you doing here?"

Edward snorts, "don't flatter yourself. Why is it so strange that I was also invited here?"

"This doesn't seem like your scene."

"And what is my scene?"

I scrunch my nose up, "I don't know – a dark alley way? A smoky club?"

He laughs, "You make me sound like some thug. You don't really know anything about me. Mind you, you never really gave me a chance to prove otherwise."

I glare at him mulishly, "like I said before – conceited dickheads aren't my type."

"Oh? And pretty, boy-band singers are?"

"T-they are not a boy-band! They are a rock group!"

He laughs unkindly, "baby, if you think that _they_ are a rock group, you have obviously never been exposed to good music."

I fume, "I didn't ask to be insulted Edward! Look, I'm not interested. I thought I made that clear at the club…"

He steps closer to me, bringing his body into contact with mine.

"Did you make that clear before or after you kissed me?"

"I… I didn't kiss you! You kissed me!" I splutter.

"That's not how I remember it. I remember you grinding your tight little body into mine. You weaving your hands into my hair, pulling me closer."

I can barely breathe. He's everywhere. His fingers trace patterns down my arms, then he entwines them with mine, pulling them up the polished wood of the door and above my head.

"Do you dream about our kiss, Bella? Did you feel the same electricity, I felt?" he says in a low voice.

"N-no," I say with as much resolve I can muster. Which isn't a lot.

He chuckles, releasing hot air across my skin. Goosebumps instantly rise.

"So stubborn. But we both know your real answer… don't we baby?"

I squeeze my eyes shut and tilt my head up. My body demands his attention.

He runs his nose down the column of my neck, "don't you?"

"Yes." I whisper in defeat. My whole being is hazed over by lust.

"Do you remember my cock pressing against your hot centre?" one hand is holding my hands against the door, while the other runs down to my thigh.

" _Yes Edward."_

His cock replicates his words, pressing lightly into my pussy. Softly. Infuriatingly teasing.

"Fuck."

"Do you want me to kiss you again Bella?"

His chest is against mine and I vaguely wonder if he can feel my heart hammering against his. My lips need to feel him. _I need him._

"Please."

He bites my neck softly, making me gasp, "what, did you say?"

" _Please Edward. Fucking hell, please!"_

He growls against my neck. Then he picks me up, slamming his lips against mine. Jesus. Had I forgotten how incredible he made me feel?

Our lips fight for dominance. Then suddenly he is lying me down on the bed, our tongues sliding against each other sensuously. He bites my lips, licking the sting away, then sucking them into his mouth; suckling.

My hands are once again in his hair, gripping; pulling; pushing.

It's almost violent, the way we push and pull the other… but in the sexiest of ways.

I tug the bottom of his t-shirt. He easily pulls it off with one hand, over his head. I delight in the feel of skin; both of my hands hungrily sweep up his abs and his pecks. I can't see them due to the darkness of the room, but they feel strong, moving under my touch.

He slips his hands to the bottom my dress, not taking his lips off my neck and pulls it off so that I am left in my lacy black underwear.

He moves his mouth down to my chest, tonguing my nipples through the thin lace of my bra. My eyes roll into the back of my head, holding him against my chest. I then feel his hand trail up to my breast, slipping into my bra.

"Please Edward, stop teasing me." I plead, as he continues to lick around the lace, not touching my skin.

Then he's gone, totally removing his body from mine.

I stay still for a moment, half dazed by the lust coursing through my body and half confused by the abrupt stop. Only when I hear the door close softly, does my mind catch up with my body.

The asshole! He left me here! Needy and quivering on the bed, clad only in my underwear!

I curse under my breath and get up. I move aimlessly to the wall, searching for the switch.

I turn the light on, blinded for a moment. I can't believe he did that to me! I had felt his hard length against me – he was definitely as sexually frustrated as I was!

It is then when I register a sharp point against my breast. I furrow my eyebrows, digging my hand into my bra and pulling out a folded piece of paper.

I open it with shaking hands. Fury simmering in the pit of my stomach.

It was his number, written beneath beautiful, swirling letters.

 _The balls in your court now – don't play games with me this time._

 _-E_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer- all these obscenely good-looking characters belong to the one and only Stephanie Meyer!**_

 _ **Hello lovely people! I am soooo sorry by how long it has taken me to write this chapter! I am currently planning to go to University this weekend, so I have been extremely busy, but no fear – I will make sure that I am on top of this story.**_

 _ **Your reviews have been absolutely incredible, and I am astounded by the support for this story. A few of you have commented about your worries of Jacob, but do NOT worry! I am a MAJOR B/E shipper, and I would never ever let Jacob get I the way of that… but it's fun to tease you guys ;D.**_

 _ **Here is an extra long chapter as a thank you for your love, and I hope you enjoy. Please let me know what you think.**_

 _ **Lots of love xo**_

 _ **3.**_

 _ **BPOV**_

"Now, I have been feeling some restlessness from many of you today… it is practically radiating from you! But fear not my children; the stars are realigning, and you will experience a relaxation in these tensions. As we enter the 'halasana' pose, I want you to inhale for five seconds and exhale for five more seconds. Feel all that negative energy seep from your bodies. Release all that anxiety. Cleanse yourselves."

As Zafrina, my yoga instructor bends into the position, hiding her face, I finally allow myself to roll my eyes. Zafrina is ever the eccentric; claiming that the planets define us, and that we need to be rid of all the negativity in our lives.

Easy for her to say though – she hasn't met the source of my 'negative energy'. I grit my teeth, feeling the strain in my muscles as I push my body into the 'halsana', thoughts of the handsome bartender inevitably invading my mind.

It has been three days since he cornered, then abandoned me at Rosalie's party. Three days, since he left me, wet and needy on the bed, absolutely humiliated. Three days, of having his note burn a hole in my pocket, desperate for my attention.

One half of me - the half that begged him to take me on a random person's bed – is completely intrigued by the note. What if I did call him? Would he tease me again? Ask to hook up again? Am I naive to believe that he wants to take me on a date?

The other, most realistic part of me, wants to burn the note and forget about Edward. He scares me. With Edward, I never feel in control. I turn into a different person.

Isabella Swan, the daughter of a police chief, never had one-night stands. She didn't crave that. She never acted purely on her hormones. She used her brain, her logic; she was independent and strong willed.

But Edward… Edward makes my blood boil. He knows what buttons to press and how to get a reaction out of me. My words get completely lost in his presence, replaced by adrenaline and excitement. My body takes over my brain, and all clarity is amiss.

"Think any harder and you are going to hurt yourself" Alice mutters under her breath, bent in the same position.

I squeeze my eyes tightly, "I'm not thinking about anything."

"Pfffft… I'm your best friend Bella – what kind of fool do you take me for?"

"Isabella, Mary Alice, please refrain from any chatter in my class. This is a time where we must be in touch with her inner sangfroid." Zafrina says, moving from the halsana pose, eyes still closed. How does she do that?

"Now, please move into the 'crow'."

"Is 'sangfroid' even a word?" The pixie wonders.

" _Yes Alice."_

"Huh."

"Ladies!"

We oblige, moving our bodies into the 'crow.' After a moment of silence, Alice continues to harass me.

"You've been quiet since Rosalie's party… actually, fuck that, you've been acting weird since the bar. What happened? You know you can tell me anything!"

I sigh. I had hoped that my weekly yoga session would be a great way to forget all about the events since the bar. Yet, my racing mind paired with Alice's insistency made it impossible.

"I… I may have met someone."

She is quiet for a moment, before a loud squeal escapes "GET OUT!"

"ISABELLA SWAN! MARY ALICE BRANDON!"

Our heads simultaneously snap to our usually mellow yoga teacher. The Amazonian is nearly red in the face, her eyes shooting fire as she glares at us. I look around at the fellow members of our yoga class who stare at us curiously, some with irritation and others with amusement.

My face flames with embarrassment.

"I have had _quite_ enough of your chatter! Please, have some respect for some of the people in this classroom who wish to relax! One more word, and I will have to dismiss you. Got it?"

We both nod quickly, shocked at her sharp tone and scary expression.

"Good."

She then takes a dramatic intake of breath, her face adopting her typical chilled manner. "Now ladies, if you would all move into warrior one position for twenty seconds, before moving swiftly into warrior two."

I bend my left leg forward, and stretch my right leg backward, making sure that my back stays ramrod straight. I then raise my arms high above my head, staring up at the plain white ceiling, counting in my head.

"Who is he?" Alice whispers.

"For fucks sake Alice, do you want us to get thrown out of this class?" I murmur, avoiding any eye contact with Zafrina. That woman is damn frightening!

"Well it's not everyday that my friend hooks up with a guy! I mean when was the last time you _properly_ got with someone? Wasn't it last year at one of Newton's lame ass parties? What was his name again? Aaron… Andy… Alec!"

"No! Remember that guy I dated shortly at the beginning of the year? Riley?"

Alice scrunches her face up, "Oh yeah. I must have blocked him out, that guy was a fucking bore."

I nod in agreement. Riley and I dated for two months earlier this year. I had bumped into him at the coffee shop I frequented, and his all American-boy charm and sweet smile was the main instigator to why I agreed to a date.

What a mistake.

Riley was the dullest man to ever walk this earth. A total people pleaser, he had no real tastes or opinions of his own, instead choosing to agree with every thing I said.

At the beginning, I was none the wiser. For example- I'd say my favourite book was Pride and Prejudice, then he would watch the whole BBC box set by the next evening. I thought it was it was cute at first, but soon it just became annoying.

It was only until Alice gave me a swift kick up the ass, when I realised what Riley and I had lacked both passion and adventure; something that I needed in my life. When I finally did break it off, he literally hugged my legs like a child when their mother leaves them at home for the first time. Then he started crying about how it was his ex Victoria's fault – the man was a nut job.

I shake my head, pushing away the memory.

"Who is he Bella?" Alice prods.

"No one you know."

"Where did you meet? Did you meet at the bar?" she gasps "Oh. My. God! Is _he_ the reason why you left that night?"

"Look Al…"

"Uh hum"

I look forward, only to meet Zafrina's ferocious gaze, her face nearly as bright as the tie-dye shirt she wore. She doesn't say anything, but simply gestures us to the exit.

...

"Jesus Christ Alice! I actually enjoyed that class!" I huff as we walk down the sidewalk.

The hustle and bustle of New York moves around us in a flurry; yellow cabs beeping as they speed down the streets, businessmen in their pristine suits bumping into us, juggling their expensive iPhones and Starbuck's coffee; and well-dressed women tottering in their too high heels, up to their necks with designer bags.

It's busy, hectic and ultimately – chaotic, but New York makes me feel alive in a way that neither, Phoenix or Forks ever had.

Alice and I weave our way through the throngs of people over to the popular French café that we had come across one cold winter's day a year ago.

"You know Zafrina, Bella," Alice compromises as we walk briskly to the entrance "she'll forget by the end of today."

That is true. Both of us know that whilst Zafrina likes to believe that yoga is the ying to her yang it is her affinity for weed that usually makes her so chilled.

The heat of the café hits us at full blast when we enter, along with the mouth-watering scent of warm croissants and coffee.

I unwind my red scarf from my neck, "get me my usual, and I just may forgive you."

"You got it!"

I grab us a table at the corner of the room, beside a large window. I stare outward at the street, golden and red leaves falling from the trees above, people battling against the autumn wind.

I adore autumn with an intense passion: the ever-changing colour of the leaves, the spicy smell of pumpkin spice lattes. In Forks autumn doesn't seem to exist, as it remained as green as ever. The seasons seem to skip straight from summer to winter.

"Okay your break is officially over!" the evil munckin rejoices, sliding into the seat opposite me, placing tray full of steaming goods onto the table. "Tell me _everything._ "

And so it commences. I tell her about our meeting: him calling me too young, our blatant flirting, steamy dance, and explosive kiss. Then the events of Rosalie's party: him pulling me into the dark, our banter, the kiss that turned into a near life altering sexual experience, and finally – the note.

By the end of it all, her jaw is nearly hitting the floor, and she is fanning herself with a paper napkin.

"Holy fuck! That sounds like a romance novel! Ooh… do you think Jazzy would agree to pulling me into a dark room and have his filthy way with me?" Her eyes glazes over, a dreamy smile spreading over her face.

"Ew Ali!"

She shakes her head, "right sorry! But seriously Bells! That is some HOT stuff right there! Do you have the note on you?"

I nod slowly, digging into my coat pocket and shoving over the crumpled piece of paper.

She analyses the paper silently, "he has nice handwriting. Certainly not the type of writing you'd expect from a working bartender," she says thoughtfully.

"Really? That is what you take from it?"

Alice looked up grinning, "well other than that, he's certainly got you on your toes! When are you going to call him?"

I splutter, "C-call him? Like hell I am! Did you hear what I just told you? He is a cocky, judgemental prick who insists on tormenting me!"

"Bella, if you truly believed that, then you would have thrown this note away as soon as you found it," She states patronisingly.

"B-but… you see… w-well… That's completely besides the point!"

"Plus," Alice continues, ignoring my mumbles " _you_ judged him as well! You practically called him a drug dealer to his face, and then you proceeded to kiss his face off!"

I look down ashamed. How do I defend myself against that? Yes, so I may have misjudged him, but the man sends my brain into goo whenever I am around him! Add that to his sensual touches and erotic words, and I'm a goner!

"Look Bella," she soothes, "I am not saying you are in the wrong. If a hot guy pinned me up against a door and proceeded to strum my body like an instrument, then I would probably lose my brain filter too. But this guy seems to evoke some… interesting feelings from you. Feelings that I haven't even seen before! You are usually so reserved and calm, but he makes you loud and fiery. He's sparking a part of you, and Bella, you have got to see where it takes you! Please, for me, just give him a call, and if he turns out to be a penis crack then I will personally beat him to death."

I sniff, absorbing what she just said. "Penis crack? Really?"

She shrugs, "I'm running out of good insults."

I laugh.

Her phone buzzes. She picks it up, reading the screen before placing it slowly down.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, it was just Jasper."

I raise an eyebrow, "does he want to meet you somewhere?"

Alice looks at me guiltily "Yeah, but I would never ditch you."

I roll my eyes, "Go on get out of here!"

"No! You need more consultation on this hot bartender!"

"Ali, go and see you wonderful boyfriend. I'll call Edward if you do."

Alice's face lights up, "promise?"

I give her a small smile, "promise."

"Yay! Okay, give me ALL the details later!"

I nod, watching her fondly as she skips out of the café, already dialling Jasper's number.

My fingers fiddle with Edward's number for a second, the words taunting me by the second. Can I do this?

I pick up the note shakily, holding my phone in my other hand. I click in his number carefully, double-checking in case I misdialled.

When I finally press 'call' my palms are sweating like crazy, and I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

This is a bad idea Bella! A really, really ba-

"Hello?"

 _Shit._

"Edward? Um… hi. This is Bella? From the bar… A-and the party?" _Jesus, I sound like such an idiot!_

He pauses, probably thinking the exact same thing. Then a sexy chuckle filters through the speakers.

" _Bella._ Of course I remember you… I must say, I have been eagerly awaiting your phone call."

"Y-you have?" I ask, shocked.

"Mhm… I really like this sudden coyness Miss Bella. Mind you, your fire is something I am also very… enamoured with."

I narrow my eyes at his words but I bite my tongue, holding back a retort.

"Well. You said the ball is in my court now. I've called, what is it you want?"

He chuckles again, sending shivers down my spine.

"Why Bella, I thought it was obvious? I want to see you again."

I freeze. While this had crossed my mind, I never really entertained the thought. I am _Bella Swan_ for God's sake! Safe, predictable, average Bella Swan! I don't attract dangerously sexy bartenders!

"I take from your silence that you are quite surprised" I can practically _hear_ his smirk over the line.

"Must you always sound like such a knob head?"

His laugh is a little louder this time. I think he likes my teasing.

"And there's the fire I have been missing, Angel."

"Just… I don- Why me?" I whisper pathetically.

His voice goes low then, a voice that I can imagine he would use in the bedroom. Rolling underneath silk sheets between sweeps of his lips and nips of his teeth.

"Bella… I can still taste your skin on my tongue. I can feel the rough lace of your sexy bra rubbing against my body. Whenever I close my eyes I can remember that twinkle in your eye as you argued with me. The heat of your sweet pussy against my cock as I pushed you against the door." He articulates every word making me feel intensely hot under the collar.

I am suddenly very, very aware that I am in a public place.

I clear my throat, "That wasn't completely obvious when you left me alone in Rosalie's."

He growls, "Trust me when I say, all I wanted was to plough into you hard, and feel you tighten around me as you screamed my name. But when I _do_ fuck you, it will not be in a stranger's bed, in a public place… well at least not the first time. And I will not be spending mere _minutes_ worshipping your beautiful body."

I am losing all my sensible thought, much like I did whenever I was in his presence. I am now grasping at straws, "So all you want is to have sex with me?"

"If all I wanted was sex Bella, then no offence, but I could easily bang a girl from the bar. I don't have any trouble with the female population," his voice isn't cocky but more matter of fact, "But that isn't what I want. What I want is- _you."_

 _Jesus Christ, is it getting hot in here or is it just me?_ Seriously, this man is going to make me explode.

"Tonight. I want to take you out." He demands.

"I am not going to sleep with you tonight, Edward."

"Is that a yes Bella?"

I think about it for a minute, why, I don't know.

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise, but dress casually and warmly" he says, smugness seeping through his tone. But deep down I sense relief in his voice.

I give him my address, my brain going one hundred miles per hour. I can't believe this is happening. Would I be able to control myself around him tonight? My body seems to act entirely on it's own accord whenever I am around him.

"I will pick you up at seven."

"You know, considering we have met twice, I still don't know your last name" I point out.

For the first time during the call, he hesitates "Edward Mason."

"Isabella Swan." I exchange.

"Hmm so… Isabella Swan…"

I furrow my eyebrows, recognising the seductiveness in his tone, "yes Mr Mason?"

"What are you wearing?" he asks cheekily.

I snort, "see you at seven, Edward."

When I hang up, I pretend that I don't have the biggest fucking smile on my face.

…

"Alice, where are you?"

The distant movement of sheets, and a low chuckle meets my ears. I face palm, tapping my shoe impatiently. It is half past five, meaning Edward will be here in an hour and a half. I have washed my hair, shaved and blow dried, trying to give Alice as much time with Jasper as possible. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Bella?"

"Al, when are you planning on coming home?"

" _Jazz, stop doing that!"_ she giggles, "um, soon. Why? Wait… did you phone your hottie bartender? _Please say you did_!"

I run a hand through my hair, feeling the nerves slowly building again, "I did. And… he's picking me up in an hour and a half."

"Holy shit! Right, I'll be there in ten and a half minutes!"

"But doesn't Jasper live twenty minutes away?"

"Never doubt me Isabella. See you soon!"

I shake my head, putting the phone down. Alice never failed to amaze me, ever since we met three years ago. I remember when I first moved into my dorm, scared shitless, only to be met with a bouncy version of Tinkerbell.

She literally took all my boxes from me, and whizzed through them like some sort of hurricane, throwing all my "ugly" clothes into a corner (which was admittedly all of my wardrobe, sans a pretty blue blouse, and a smart pair of black jeans), before dubbing herself as my 'fairy godmother' and new best friend.

Alice changed me in many ways, but all for the better. Before College, I was extremely introverted and while I am still a little on the quiet side, I did enjoy the odd night out and letting my hair down. But I'd still choose a bucket of Ben and Jerry's ice cream and reruns of the 'Vampire Diaries' over a night on the town any day of the week.

I seemed to have a similar affect on her. I grounded Alice, bringing a sense of realism to her often over optimistic self.

"I'm here!" the devil herself sings.

"Impressive. Nine minutes and forty two seconds."

She pokes her tongue out childishly, "told you I had a gift. Now…" she starts jumping up and down, clapping "where is he taking you?"

I shrug, "not too sure to be honest. He said to dress casually, but warm."

"Hmm…" she taps her chin "well if it's casual, he is probably not taking you out for dinner. And if you need to be warm, you won't be going to the movies or anything else indoors."

"You see my dilemma?" I sigh, gesturing to my wardrobe.

"I think I know just the thing!"

She rummages around my drawers, pulling out a pair of dark jeans that are insanely comfortable.

"Okay wear these," she throws the jeans at me "with this jumper." She hands me a thick, grey, cable knit jumper.

"Is this Ralph Lauren?" I wonder, noticing the familiar logo on the jumper.

"You can never go wrong with Ralph, Bella" Alice replies condescendingly.

"But I don't own any Ralph Lauren!"

"I may have bought it for you in the Christmas sale last year…"

"Alice!"

"I knew you wouldn't accept, so I just put it in your wardrobe waiting for the right occasion! Now put the jumper on Bella!"

I pull the clothing on, aware that it was a fruitless argument as she continued to look through my things.

"Ooh! I completely forgot you had these!" she squeals, holding a pair of tall black boots "with these boots you can wear some fuzzy socks and he will never know the difference! And for your jacket, I think this is perfect!" She pulls a black suede biker jacket, which had black thick fleece inside. Again - I have no idea I even owned it.

I put on the new additions, while she walks around me critically.

"You look really cute! Now put the diamond earrings I bought you last Christmas in, some silver rings and your scarf on later then you'll be perfect! Now, lets do your make up and hair!"

By the time Edward had arrived, Alice had completed my natural make up with lip-gloss, and curled the ends of my hair. I am extremely happy with the result, but completely terrified at the prospect of spending a whole night with Edward Mason.

"BELLA! YOUR DATE IS HERE!" The annoying pixie trills.

I take one last long look in the mirror, and inhale deeply. _He is just a normal guy Bella… a normal… cocky, beautiful, gorgeous; absolutely melt your panties off man._

I can hear Alice chatting to Edward. I peek around the doorframe, wondering if I should save my date or let him suffer.

She is talking one hundred mile per minute, enthusiastically waving her hands around as she chatted to my unassuming date. However, to my utter astonishment, instead of looking bored, pissed off or even scared like previous dates appeared when meeting Alice, he looks… amused.

He has a sexy half smile on his lips, leaning against the doorjamb, one hand in his pocket.

I take advantage of his distraction, digesting the sight of him. Jesus. How does he get even more beautiful every time I see him?

This is the first time I am seeing him in the light; and I can finally see that I was right about the eyes- not brown but a burning emerald. They are startling against his pale skin, drawing instant attention. His messy, 'I-just-rolled-out-of-bed' hair is a delicious bronze colour – neither red nor brown.

He wears a thick jacket over a forest green round neck jumper that I can see fits him _very_ nicely, dark jeans and boots.

I must have made some sort of a choking noise, because both eyes snap to me, radiating humour.

I can feel my cheeks turning pink as I give Edward a shy smile, looking at him through my eyelashes. He flashes me a soft crooked grin in return, sending my heart into major overload. The tenderness of it surprises me.

"Edward."

"Bella."

We stare at one another for a moment, him taking in my attire (appreciatively, might I add) whilst I continue to gawk at his beauty.

Alice clears her throat, her silvery eyes darting between the two of us, "I'll go grab your bag Bella."

She turns her back on Edward, fully facing me, mouthing _"Wow."_

I chuckle, walking closer to the Greek God who had yet to take his eyes off of me. I internally dance.

"Sorry about her, she was a little… excited to meet you."

He laughs softly, "don't worry about it. She seems really great."

"She is!" Alice cries, handing me my bag. "It was wonderful meeting you, Edward… I hope we see you again very soon?"

"Me too" he responds, his eyes returning to mine.

"Okay off you go love birds! Have a good time! And take care of her Mister!"

The three of us laugh together. Edward then takes my hand into his, pressing a kiss to the top of it. I blush again, following him to the elevator at the end of hall.

"You look gorgeous Bella" Edward whispers into my ear, his hand settling on the small of my back.

I smile up at him, "Thank you. You know, I could get used to this 'sweet Edward'"

He raises an eyebrow, his trademark smirk making its way onto his face "Oh? I'd like to think I am sweet most of the time…"

I snort, pressing the button for the elevator, "uh huh, and I'm the queen of England."

He snickers at my cliché joke.

As we enter the elevator, he gently pushes me to the wall, placing his hands either side of my face, effectively trapping me.

"Mmm… this looks familiar."

I roll my eyes, "Right. Only tonight, I will definitely _not_ be begging."

He trails his nose up and down my neck, tracing the curve of it, all the way up to my jaw-line.

"Really? He whispers against my skin, tickling me. I put both hands on his chest pushing him back slightly, needing space. He is doing it again- making me lose all coherent thought.

"Really, Mason."

A grin lights up off his face. He bends down to my eyelevel so that we are nose to nose.

"I bet you, that by the end of the night, you will be begging for your lips to be on mine."

The elevator dings, signalling our stop, "And if I win?"

He shrugs, "that's up to you. But if I win, you have to go out with me again."

We walk out, side by side to the sidewalk "how do you know that we are going to enjoy _this_ date?"

A knowing grin spreads across his face as he stops by a gleaming Harley motorcycle.

"Oh, trust me Isabella – tonight, I'm going to give you the ride of your life."


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer- all these obscenely good-looking characters belong to the one and only Stephanie Meyer!**_

 _ **Hello my wonderful readers! I know- cue the shocked gasps, I have written another chapter! I had my fresher's week last week, and it killed me, so please forgive me for the lateness of this chapter.**_

 _ **I found it really difficult writing this chapter, as I have been worried that it wouldn't live up to your expectations. While this may not be the date you expect, I wanted to give you a look into a different side of this Edward.**_

 _ **I've said this several times now, but I am genuinely so so sooooo surprised by the amount of love this story is getting. All your reviews encourage me to write, and it is your support, which is pushing this story ahead. Please review, and let me know what you think about this chapter – I REALLY HOPE YOU AREN'T DISAPPOINTED!**_

 _ **Warning, this isn't the sexiest chapter I have written so far, but I promise that if you review, there will be many sexy times ahead;)**_

 _ **So… here you guys go! When listening to this chapter I listened to Alicia Keys' New York, no word of a lie!**_

 _ **Lots of love xo**_

 _ **4.**_

 _ **BPOV**_

" _Oh, trust me Isabella – tonight, I'm going to give you the ride of your life."_

I gulp, my eyes growing wide. This man is going to be the actual death of me. He moves over the bike, grabbing two helmets. Taking advantage of the fact that his burning eyes are not focussed on me, I allow myself to lust over the gorgeous machine. It is then I realise what I am truly looking at.

 _Holy shit-balls._

"E-Edward?" My voice shakes as I walk up to the stunning vehicle, reverently touching the handlebars.

He looks up, concern marring his features as he hears the tone of my voice; "Bella?"

"Um… is t-this Harley a _Fat Boy S_?" I can barely get my words out staring at the black matte finish – no doubt custom made. I might as well give up the bet right this second, because I am already envisioning Edward bending me over the bike, hands on my hips, where he would thrust deep inside me…

His silence forces me to drag my eyes away from the motorcycle (and my mind away from my dirty fantasies), to meet his round ones. His jaw is nearly touching the floor and it doesn't even seem like he is breathing.

"Edward? Edwaaaaard? Hello?"

He coughs, shaking his head. He then not so subtly adjusts himself, making me flush with pleasure.

"You know about motorcycles?" His usually overly confident voice is suddenly extremely small. I raise an eyebrow at his sudden mood swing.

"Yes. When I was eighteen, I kinda, briefly went through an… adrenaline-junkie phase? I went cliff-diving, I got my first and only tattoo," I ignore his splutter "and I drove motorcycles. I almost gave my father a heart attack!" I think back to those short few months; probably the only time in which I truly broke out of my shell. It was exciting and liberating, but also extremely short lived. No one knew of this, not even Alice.

"You should have seen how relieved he was when I finished my little rebellion stage!" I laugh, remembering all the grey hairs and wrinkles poor Charlie gained in that time. Thinking about my father makes me feel suddenly nostalgic, but I swallow down the feeling.

"Anyway… the only thing that really stuck with me from that time, was my love of motorcycles. I went to a few conventions in Washington, where I grew up, and even self taught myself how to fix up this old scrap of metal I found the junkyard, since then I've never looked back."

I look back at the Fat Boy longingly; I am dying to feel its power between my legs, the wind flowing through my hair. It had been way to long since I had ridden a motorcycle. While I adore Big Red (my lovingly restored baby) back home, it really doesn't hold a candle to this beauty.

An idea suddenly strikes me, and an evil grin fills my face, "Edward, I think I know what I want if I win this bet," I look pointedly at the bike.

He looks confused for a moment, then realisation dawns upon him. "Seriously? You want to ride my bike? C'mon Bella, can't you think of _anything_ else you want..." He subtly gestures to his dick jokingly, and while it is a tempting offer, nothing would deter me from grasping the opportunity to ride this beauty.

I jut my lip out, pouting "Please Edward?"

His eyes seem to glaze over, locking onto my lips. I can see that he is wavering. Jesus, who knew that it, would be so easy?

"Fine." He says in a low voice.

I do a small victory dance, forgetting for a moment that I am on a busy sidewalk in New York City.

Edward is very quiet, which surprises me since he seemed to have an opinion on everything. I wonder if I should slap him but he is just scanning my face intently.

Regaining his composure, he strides over to me, taking my face between both his hands and stroking his thumbs gently against my jaw-line. It is the most gentle, romantic gesture he has ever shown me and I don't know how to react it. Where was the cocky bastard I had met in the bar?

There must be a million questions in my eyes, but there are absolutely no answers in his. Finally, he lets go of my face, muttering under his breath something completely unintelligible. He then places a helmet on my head, securing it around my chin. He strokes my hair behind my shoulders softly, his eyes shining as he quietly observes me.

"You are full of surprises Isabella Swan" he comments.

I blush, which brings that familiar smirk to his face again. He turns away from me, putting on his helmet as he straddles the bike.

Okay – anyone who has _thought_ they had ever witnessed perfection before had clearly never seen Edward Mason on a bike before. Seriously, the man was _breathtaking;_ like something from a magazine. James Dean reincarnated.

He looks over to me, probably wondering why I wasn't behind him. I flush again, biting my lip. He grins at my dumbfounded expression, and wiggles his finger at me in a 'come hither' gesture. He looks smug… too smug for my liking. I square my shoulders; yes, there was a delightfully hot man on a drool-worthy motorcycle waiting for me, but goddamn it – I will win this bet!

I slide behind him, circling his waist. I can feel his warmth despite his thick coat and jumper. I press my breasts against his back, and tighten my legs causing him to groan and me to smile.

"You ready?" He says over his shoulder.

I press my lips against the shell of his ear, "never been more ready."

He shivers in response and kicks the bike to life. The vibrations beneath me bring that comforting and familiar feeling back to me. He swiftly gets out of his parking position, driving down the road.

The feeling is indescribable. It feels like I am flying. The cold air whips my face, and runs through my long hair. The New York lights flash around me, colourful and vibrant. I close my eyes, laughing carelessly at the wonderful energy that races through me as we speed through the city, weaving between yellow cabs. I can feel Edward's muscles clench underneath my fingertips, as I squeeze my thighs more securely around him.

"Where are we going?" I shout after a moment of pure ecstasy.

"It's a surprise!" He calls back, not taking his eyes off the road.

I lay the side of my face against his warm back, enjoying the feel of his body against mine. It makes me wonder what it would feel to have his skin against mine. My panties dampen at the thought alone.

I quickly divert my mind to where he could possibly be taking me. Edward Mason is an absolute mystery to me, and it is hard not to stereotype him, much as he did me the night we met

But what if he _does_ end up taking me to a grimy bar, expecting sex in the alleyway afterward? While I am not opposed to rough wall sex, I am determined not to lose my cool as I did during our past encounters.

I am so lost in thinking about where we could possibly be going, that it doesn't even register that we have arrived at our destination.

I raise an eyebrow, recognising the small parking lot was the one directly next to Central Park. But we can't be going to Central Park. It is a September evening, which means…

 _FUCKING NO WAY_. My jaw drops.

We are at the Breaking Dawn Musical Festival. The Breaking Dawn Festival has been an annual occurrence at Central Park for the last fifty years, and is one of the most prestigious classical music festivals in the world.

It also cost a bomb to even _get_ a ticket to this place, hence why I had never been here in the three years I had been at NYU. I had of course dreamed of it, being a huge fan of classical music. But how did Edward know?

Edward had parked his bike, gotten off and removed his helmet within the time I had been wildly thinking, unable to believe what is happening. How can a bartender afford something like this? It just doesn't make sense! Tickets cost nearly four hundred dollars _each,_ due to the mass amount of famous names that performed here. The only people who really came to these things were either crazily wealthy or famous or both!

"Bella?"

I snap my head over to Edward who stands almost nervously next to me, waiting for me to get off the bike. "Is this okay? If you don't like this we can go somewhere else…"

Okay, fuck this bet – a humble, beautiful Edward paired with the date of my dreams was sure to be my kryptonite!

"Edward," I gasp, unable to get the words out "this is way too extravagant, you did _not_ have to do this! I was expecting a movie or dinner…"

He runs a hand through his hair, chuckling slightly "well, dinner is awaiting us, and don't worry about the money, I promise I didn't spend a penny. I know a guy."

"Uh – was that guy, _God?"_ I ask incredulously "Jesus Edward, this is beyond my wildest dreams! Are you sure I'm even worth this?"

To think, this morning I had thought all he wanted was a fuck buddy; but obviously with all this effort, he saw this going far deeper. Suddenly my palms are sweating and I am terrified.

His cold hands once again find themselves on my burning face, brushing the apple of my cheeks, "Isabella," he whispers "like I said on the phone earlier… I _want_ you. Do you feel the electricity that runs through our touch alone? What we could have… it could be fucking fireworks; so yes you _are worth it."_

He says it with such ferocity, his emerald eyes so intense, that it takes all my strength not to place my lips against his and return his passion in a much more physical way.

He steps away, running a hand through his hair again. I conclude that it must be one of his nervous gestures.

Then his persona switches to the confident and smug man that I am typically accustomed to- "Now, as much as I love the look of you on my bike," he purrs "I think it's time we get going."

I clear my throat, slipping off the bike and pushing off my helmet.

He takes my hand into his, entwining our fingers and leads me out of the lot, through the trees where Sheep Meadow lies.

"Aren't you worried about your motorcycle?" I ask concerned, glancing back at the vehicle like a mother leaving her baby for the first time.

He snickers, noticing the tone of my voice "Don't worry, I have arranged someone to pick it up, and put it in a more secure location."

I nod, turning to look at the scene before me.

I have been to Central Park dozens of times before, but this is beyond words. It has been totally transformed. Around the main public area, there are thousands upon thousands of strings of twinkling lights wrapped around the trunks of the trees, swinging from one branch to the other.

There is a massive stage set up towards the top of the Meadow, bathed in golden light. It looks even more spectacular against the velvety dark sky. A huge symphony orchestra sits there, arranging them-selves and tuning their instruments. Two large screens are set up either side of the stage, enabling the monumental crowd to have a close up image of the goings on stage.

Hundreds and hundreds of people occupy the space, sat on picnic blankets, abuzz with excitement.

Edward stops next to a red check picnic blanket, which is conveniently at a (albeit small) distance away from the clustered crowd, giving us a sense of privacy. I notice that there is a picnic basket placed here besides a bottle of champagne chilling in ice.

"Oh, Edward" I breathe. It is perfect. Who knew my cocky, lusty bartender could be so damned romantic?

He raises my hand, kissing my knuckles tenderly, "I know we aren't exactly up at the front, but it's still our first date and I want to talk to you as well."

My heart flutters at his sincerity, "I love it Edward. You really didn't have to go through so much trouble…"

He rolls his eyes, pulling me down onto the blanket, "Please Bella, we've been through this. Now," he opens up the basket and steam automatically floods out, along with a mouthwatering smell.

"What else could you possibly have under your sleeve?"

He produces a silver platter and opens it to reveal two delicious steak baguettes, along with fries. Who the hell brings steaks to a picnic?

"How the hell did you pull this off?" I ask, inhaling the scent.

"I had someone deliver it directly from the restaurant about five minutes before we arrived," he continues "They are from Aro's, so hopefully they will meet your satisfaction." He places cutlery in front of me.

For what feels like the millionth time this evening, my jaw drops. Aro's is an upcoming restaurant in New York and extremely hard to get into. The New York Times had given it exceptional reviews, and it is well on its way to becoming one of the leading restaurants in the city.

Then my previous question pops back in to my head, "Edward, how on earth could you _afford_ this?"

He doesn't meet my eyes, choosing to pick at his fries.

"Connections."

I raise an inquisitive eyebrow, "What kind of connections?"

"Ca- my dad," The word seems almost foreign on his tongue "he and Aro were roommates in College. I called in a favor."

I ignore his little slip up, sensing that he is uncomfortable for some reason.

"Do you want some champagne?" he asks, quickly changing the subject.

I nod, and he pours the bubbly into two flute glasses.

"Thank you Edward, for all of this," I say meaningfully "no one has ever gone to such lengths for me, especially on a first date."

He places his champagne down, covering my small hand with his large one "I have never done this for another girl before Bella. Trust me when I say that you are very special."

I smile shyly, rising my glass in cheers.

We click our glasses together. The cold liquid runs down my throat, calming my nerves slightly.

"So…" I start, cutting my baguette into two. I can see the steak inside is a little pink – just how I like it.

Edward looks up, chewing, his mouth rises into a half smile, "yes beautiful?"

Christ... this man!

"You like classical music?"

He swallows, "yeah, I am actually classically trained."

My hand freezes midway to my mouth, in shock "No way."

"You sound surprised." He smirks.

"Well I knew you played guitar."

Now he looks surprised, "what gave you that impression Miss Swan?"

I place my food beside me, and get on to my knees, leaning over to him. I trace the guitar tattoo with my pinkie finger. It doesn't escape me that goose bumps follow my touch.

I follow the detailed design – running my finger up each individual string, the delicate music notes that swirl around it. I look up, to find myself nose to nose with him; his warm breathes against my cheeks. I close my eyes, enjoying the close proximity. No matter how I tried to deny it, this man had managed to squirm his way into my life.

"Bella, if you don't move back, I fear that I am going to forget about my promise to be a gentleman and fuck you right here and now, in front of all these innocent spectators."

My eyes snap to his, searching for any laughter or sign that he is joking. But he seems completely serious.

I exhale shakily, moving back to my seat, "um…" I start awkwardly, biting into my baguette.

Fuck, I am so close to groaning like some sex addict. I swallow down my moan.

"So, do you play any other instruments?"

He smiles gently, tucking into his own food "Piano, violin, guitar, bass, drums, and a bit of the cello."

I choke on my fry "Six instruments! Where on earth did you find the time to do that?"

He shrugs offhandedly, "I had an… expensive education."

Expensive? That doesn't really surprise me considering our current location, his mode of transportation and the food that nearly made me orgasm. But that does not explain…

"How come you're a bartender then?"

For a split second his whole body tenses, but it is so swift that I think I have imagined it.

"I enjoy it, I have always been a bit of a night person. Plus the tips are really good."

That probably had less to do with bartender skills, and more to do with his insane good looks. But I wasn't about to say that and make his ego grow five times bigger.

As I open my mouth to ask him another question, he interrupts me- "Nuh uh, Miss Swan. Let me have a turn!"

I snort, taking a sip from my champagne "there's nothing remotely interesting about me."

"I beg to differ. I mean, how many girls go cliff diving and motorcycle driving when inexperienced?" he teases, "You sound pretty adventurous to me Isabella."

"Well I'm not that person anymore Mason," I look down at my food "no adventure in my life."

He tips my chin back, bringing my gaze back to him, "That is what I'm here for Isabella Swan."

…

We spend the next half an hour (waiting for the performance), eating our food, and enjoying each other's company.

Despite the short amount of time chatting, he comes to know a lot more about me.

He knows that my parents had split up from a young age. They had had a shotgun marriage after Renee accidently became pregnant with me – it was quick, and more out of duty than anything else. I lived with my mother and her second husband Phil who was ten years her junior until I was seventeen, where I had finally got sick of the lovebirds both of which had continuously acted like they were honeymooning. I then moved from sunny Phoenix to rainy Forks to be with my father.

He knows that Charlie was and still is, a great father. While he isn't verbally very affectionate, his love is evident through every action he does for me. From buying me my first car, to the short but sweet text he sends me every week reminding me to carry around my pepper spray. Edward laughed at that.

He knows that I aspire to be a journalist – but not the type who writes about celebrity's love lives and goes searching for sex tapes. More like the type who travels the world, visiting wonderful places – the ivy covered walls of Verona to see the balcony of Juliet, or the pink sands of Barbados.

He knows my favorite book is Pride and Prejudice – Elizabeth Bennett was my inspiration growing up as I fought for my independence; which Edward admitted he very much admires.

In turn, I manage to find out a bit more to the enigma that is Edward Mason.

His best friend is a man called Emmett McCarty, who he met when he was a teenager, in a hole of a bar in Brooklyn. He is like the big brother he never had, and he confided to him about everything.

Edward confessed that he had gone to public school growing up, approved by his parents. He had absolutely hated school and used music as his creative outlet; hence the six instruments. Music practically saved him, as he was close to being expelled many times for rebellious behaviour.

Surprisingly, Edward isn't the womanizer I had previously pinned him to be. He has had two girlfriends in the past. One in high school called Angela, who he had dated on and off in Senior Year; the girl he lost his virginity to. They finally went their separate ways a few weeks before graduation, deciding they were better off as friends. His second girlfriend –if you could even call it that - was a girl called Bree who he had dated for two months in college. He dumped her when he found out she was using him to make her ex-boyfriend Diego jealous.

He had slept with a few women since Bree, but nothing serious.

Edward is very open when talking about this, but one thing that seemed to make him tense up is the topic of his family. He would quickly change the subject whenever a question about his parents arose, and with it being the first date, I decide that it is probably best not to push him.

Within the space of a few hours, I find a part of Edward that is totally unrecognizable to the overly confident, seductive man that kissed me in the club. While he is still both of these things, he is also extremely romantic and never does things halfheartedly. He is very caring; he listened to everything I said intently, and asks questions suggesting he is genuinely interested in getting to know me and not just my body. He is also very loyal, clear through the respective tone he held when talking about Emmett.

Something, which I already knew before this date, but was made even more apparent, is his absolute sexiness. _Every thing about this man is sexy._ The way he randomly grabs my hand when I am talking, tracing the lines of my palms. The way he keeps his intense eyes on mine when divulging into a childhood memory. The way he licks his lips whenever I bit mine.

He is glorious.

Our conversation comes to a stop, when the crowd breaks into applause as John Williams is brought onto the stage. THE JOHN WILLIAMS.

I gasp, turning my body to the stage leaving my back to Edward, watching the composer bow to the crowd. I then feel Edward's large hands on my hips, pulling me in between his legs, with my back against his chest.

As the orchestra bursts into Hedwig's theme song, one of John William's best known tracks, I find myself more distracted by Edward's arms wrapped around my waist, his breath against my hair, his erection pushing into my back.

Christ it feels so wrong to feel his hard on when listening to a piece associated so closely to my childhood. _But man, does it feel good._

He turns his head nuzzling my jaw, inhaling deeply.

"You smell so good" he whispers into my ear.

I shudder as his lips press into the shell of my ear, distinctly reminding me of the way he whispered sweet nothings to me at the club.

I wiggle my hips a little, teasing him and making him growl playfully.

I giggle, shushing him.

"Calm yourself Mr. Mason, you are in a public place."

He moans "then stop rubbing your sweet ass over me! I wasn't lying when I said that I'd fuck you right here."

My eyelids flutter, "you put me into this position."

"And what a sweet position it is" he purrs.

"Shut up and listen to the genius."

We both go quiet after that.

…

It is the best date I had ever experienced.

Which isn't saying much, really. I mean, my previous dates typically consisted of a generic chat at a restaurant, or one-sided attempted grope at the movie theatre.

The musical festival was fantastic. There were iconic tunes from Jaws to Star Wars, Pirates and the Caribbean to Dark Knight. Plus there were the more classic pieces like Clare de Lune and Moonlight Sonata. There were so many other famous composers other than John Williams there, and it was honor to witness them live and in action.

And to share it all with this handsome man is an added bonus. We have so much in common besides our love for motorcycles. We both have similar eclectic tastes in music, and films. We enjoyed similar books. And although we couldn't agree on who was better – he says Rolling Stones, I say Beatles, the chemistry we have is undeniable.

Now I find myself once again, pressed against his back. I play with his zipper as he zooms through the city, wishing that the night wouldn't end. I also debate on whether or not I should kiss him.

There have been several times in the night where I almost put my lips on his, desperate to taste him. But I am determined in my case. Plus it had been fun to see the frustration in his face, as his eyes flickered to my lips through the course of the night.

"Fancy taking a detour!" He shouts over the loud wind.

I put my chin on his shoulder, grinning "sure!"

Rather than taking the short route to my apartment, he takes the longer road, going past Broadway. Flashing signs pass by- _Lion King, Aladdin, Chicago._ Manhattan is in its usual state – abysmally busy and high on energy, despite the late hour.

We must have past all the tourist spots, but it doesn't take long enough. Before I know it, he is walking me to my apartment door, my hand comfortably in his.

I turn, resting against the blue door, whilst he places his right hand high above my head, leaning over me with a soft smile on his face. I can smell him- all Edward.

"I had an amazing time." He whispers, despite the emptiness of the corridor.

I give him a toothy grin, probably looking like an idiot, "so did I."

I trail both hands over his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck.

He brings me into a sweet embrace, bending down to tuck his face into the crook of my neck, "I don't want to go."

"Don't expect me to beg you to stay." I tease, reminding him of his bet earlier that night.

He gives me a big smile, "you are a tough woman to please, Miss Swan."

"Hmm…"

I rub my cheek against his, loving the feel of his light stubble against my smooth skin.

We stand there for a few minutes, taken in by this innocent, sweet touch. It is a far cry from our past encounters, but it doesn't bother me in the slightest.

"I better go Alice is probably dying for details." I say, grudgingly pulling away from him.

His arms tighten, a groan rumbling in his chest "Nooo, don't leave…"

I giggle, "I have to."

"Or you could just invite me in?" He winks jokingly.

I push him away playfully, "Goodnight Mason."

Before I turn, I lean into him, near enough for our lips to brush against each other, but not close enough for it to count as a kiss, "and I win… I expect you to bring me your motorcycle for a test drive very soon."

I pull sharply away, smiling evilly at the stunned look on his face and go to open the door.

As I inch the door open however, he grabs my upper arm gently yet forcefully, bringing me to him.

He then pulls me in for a passionate kiss.

It is so like the previous ones but so different. Like the first and second, it is absolutely electric. Every nerve on my body is on fire, and I can feel my toes curl in my boots as I fist his hair, running my fingers through his soft locks.

But while the other kisses were primarily driven by lust, this is led by deeper feelings. Blossoming feelings. It consumes me. His right hand cradles the back of my neck, whilst his left wraps around my waist.

He moans against my mouth when my tongue finally meets his in a familiar dance. The way they twine together like long lost puzzle pieces, trailing over the other, is fabulous.

After minutes of this, we both slowly pull from each other, chests heaving furiously and eyes locked.

"Thank you for the most incredible night Edward." I breathe.

He looks at me with strong feeling, "so, you want to go out with me again."

"O-of course," I say, slightly shocked. I thought it was a given. Of course I wanted to see him again!

He presses his lips against mine one last time, "Good night Bella."

He then turns, walking towards the elevator.

I watch him get in, smiling when he waves as the doors shut.

Wow. What a night.

I slowly walk into my apartment, pressing my fingertips against my swollen lips.

All the lights are off, but I see the flickering light of the TV from the living room.

I tiptoe in, wondering if Alice had fallen to sleep, only to find her blubbering away watching the finale of The Vampire Diaries.

I can't help but laugh at the distraught look on her face.

"I still can't get over it." Alice sniffs, pointing over to the screen where Stefan and Lexi are reunited.

I plop down on the sofa next to her, taking a handful of popcorn from her bowl, "yeah… I always preferred him to Damon."

She nods empathetically, "Stelena all the way. Why do you think the first three seasons were the best ones?"

We sit in a companionable silence, gazing at the television.

"Bella?"

"Yeah Ali?"

"Is that sex hair, or helmet hair? And please say it hasn't looked like _that_ all night!"

 _And here comes the second Spanish Inquisition everyone._


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer- all these obscenely good-looking characters belong to the one and only Stephanie Meyer! Any other pop culture references also do not belong with me ***_ _ **cry**_ _ *****_

 _ **Hi everyone! Suuuurprrrrise! Another chapter! Yay me!**_

 _ **Okay, so we are well over one hundred reviews now… WOW. I genuinely didn't think this story would receive half that amount. You guys astound me, and your words of encouragement and love make my day. Lots of love to all of you! Please continue to review!**_

 _ **Also, some people have wondered if there will be any EPOVs in the future. At the moment, it is all Bella, but as a massive fan of an EPOV, there will definitely be some down the line! Just keep reading ;) There has also been comments about him coming clean to Bella about a certain secret of his… again, you will have to wait and see! If you have anymore questions though, please ask, I am happy to answer to the best of my ability.**_

 _ **This next chapter has some lemony moments for you, as a thank you for your support. I hope you enjoy it. It's my first time writing a lemon/lemony moment so please bear with me.**_

 _ **Anyway, the playlist for this story was- 'Let me love you'-SEBAZTI cover, 'A thousand sayings'- Mash up, 'Story of my Life' –One Direction (it fits, trust me), 'Gravity'- Sara Bareilles.**_

 _ **Lots of Love xo**_

 _ **5.**_

 _ **BPOV**_

 _SOS… Save me –B_

 _Your wish is my command baby, but what is it I need to save you from? –E_

 _Alice is torturing me… slowly –B_

 _Hmmm… maybe I can distract you?;) –E_

 _Ooh, Mr Mason, do tell! –B_

 _It starts with that room I pulled you into that night, and what felt like extremely sexy underwear… -E_

 _You'll never know Mason. You left me all on my lonesome :( –B_

 _Something I greatly regret, I assure you –E_

 _What would've happened had you stayed? –B_

 _Isabella, such things can't be put into mere words. Let's just say that I would have worshiped your incredible body – I would've started licking, and kissing and biting my way down your neck… around your beautiful breasts… past your adorable naval… all the way to your sweet pussy –E_

 _Jesus, Edward –B_

 _I wish you were with me now Bella. Let me see you tonight? –E_

 _Forget that! If you come now and save me, I would reward you greatly… -B_

 _Really? What would that reward entail Isabella? -E_

 _I'd tell you all about a veeeeery interesting dream I had last night… and perhaps make it a reality… -B_

 _Oh? Please share Miss Swan ;) –E_

 _Well, it involved a Fat Boy S and me... -B_

 _Holy Fuck, I'm liking where this is going already –E_

 _Yeah. It was amazing, I was speeding through a forest, the feeling of power between my legs was indescribable ;) –B_

 _You are such a fucking tease. I should punish you. The amount of dirty fantasies that are filling my mind right now… -E_

"OUCH Alice!"

I pull my ankle away from the sharp needle that had pricked my skin seconds before, sending a dirty look down at my best friend.

The evil pixie sticks her tongue out in retaliation, "then stop sex-ting your boyfriend! I'm trying to work here!" she gestures to the blue ensemble that I am currently donning.

I am acting as her manikin for the day, much to my displeasure. Alice is a fashion student, and I often found myself subjected to 'Bella Barbie' as she so creatively labelled it.

However, the dress she had made was admittedly gorgeous. Made from a cobalt blue, the silky material meets the floor like a waterfall, sliding against my skin like liquid. The sweetheart neckline added an air of sexiness to the otherwise classy effect the dress conjured. It is a beyond stunning and I feel beautiful in it.

I peer down at Alice, who is working the hem like the pro she is. "He isn't my boyfriend, by the way."

She rolls her eyes, "he took you to on a five hundred dollar date Bella. Plus, you have been attached to your phone since he dropped you off two nights ago. He may not be your boyfriend yet, but it's definitely heading in that direction."

I flush, glancing at my phone again, with a smile on my face.

What she is saying is true - since my amazing first date with Edward, we have been nonstop talking, whether it had been on the phone or over text. But we have yet had another opportunity to meet up, due to his conflicted work schedule and my hours at College.

He makes me feel things I had never felt before. Being an English Literature student, I am familiar with phrases like "my heart fluttered" or "skipped a beat". Yet, I had always thought the author was exaggerating, trying to emphasise to the reader the enormity of falling for someone through physical acts. But now… Now, I could truly grasp what Bronte and Austen was talking about.

And it absolutely terrifies me.

Alice must have seen the look on my face, because her voice suddenly becomes soft.

"Bella, there's no need to be scared. I mean, look at Jazzy and I. It took us _one kiss_ to know that we are meant to be. You and Edward have something really special, I could tell by the mere way he was _looking_ at you. He's the Chuck to your Blair. The Jughead to your Betty."

I chuckle, "Y'know she didn't actually date him in the comics."

She waves me off, "I live in the present. Also, who'd guess that Cody would turn so hot?"

I laugh again, shaking my head. "I don't know Al. Literally last week, I thought he was one of the cockiest assholes I had ever come across. But suddenly he is the sweet, romantic guy who loves classical music and talking about his friends. Which one is he, really?"

"Maybe he is both" Alice says gently, patting my foot "take Jasper for example. To everyone he comes across as this really laid back, peaceful man, but behind closed doors, he is actually very kink-"

"ALICE! I swear to god, if you tell me anymore of your sex life, I am going to burn your Jimmy Choo collection."

She purposely digs the needle into my foot, making me jump "Touch them bitch, I dare you."

The doorbell rings, saving me from the torture. I hike the blue material up to my thighs, racing away from Alice's threatening curses and towards the door.

"Rip it Bella, and I'll kill you!"

I giggle, opening the door – only to find the object of my obsession standing there with a bunch of multi coloured flowers and a crooked smile on his face.

It takes me a moment to collect myself, taking in his black jeans, white t-shirt and leather jacket

"Hi," I breathe, the dress falling away from my hands.

"Wow."

His green eyes go impossibly wide as he takes in my outfit, a gust of air leaving his lungs in a loud whoosh. I blush, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

"Bella… y-you, well… um – whoa" he stutters, his eyes trailing from the top of my head to my toes.

"You've come to save me then?" I tease, opening the door wider.

He clears his throat, "well that was the plan, but if not saving you keeps you in that dress longer then I may have to detract my offer."

I laugh like a high school girl with her first crush.

He takes my left hand into his, kissing the top of it reverently. I feel like I have been blast back into the 1900s, meeting my suitor for the fist time.

"For you," he presents the flowers in a flourish.

I take them from him, bringing them to my nose delicately, "they are beautiful, thank you. Will you come in?"

I don't wait for him to answer – instead, I pull him in and push him against the door, effectively closing it. Then I press my lips against his, in thanks.

He doesn't hesitate, kissing me tenderly, cradling my face between his palms as if I was made out of glass. It was all lips, no tongues, and beyond perfect.

"You are… beguiling," he whispers against my lips.

"That's different." I comment without removing my lips from his.

"Beautiful, stunning, gorgeous… they are way too basic to use to describe the way you look Bella."

We continue to assault each other, our tongues finally peaking out, twining together familiarly.

"ISABELLA SWAN, I SWEAR TO GOD, IF YOU EVEN _THINK_ ABOUT DEFILING MY DRESS, I WILL CASTRATE EDWARD RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW!"

He instantly yanks himself away, and I can't help but snicker at the look of terror on his face. I peck his lips one last time, "I better go and get out of this dress."

"I'd be happy to help with that," Edward mutters to me, making me giggle.

"Behave" I push him away playfully.

Ten minutes later, I find myself putting my lovely flowers in a vase, wearing my favourite red sweater and blue ripped jeans.

"So, what wonderful adventures have you got planned for us today?" I wonder.

"Well I originally planned for us to go for a ride on your beloved Fat Boy, but there's a storm brewing."

My head snaps towards him, mind going instantly blank.

I half run over to the large window in our living room, and sure enough, the skies had become a dark grey, bordering black colour. I gulp at the angry clouds. _How the hell didn't I realise this earlier? Why didn't I watch the fucking weather forecast?_

I feel Edward sidling up behind me, slipping two strong arms around my waist, "what's wrong?"

A feeling of pure dread forms in my stomach as a crack of thunder echoes around, making me jump.

"Whoa, Bella! What's up baby?" concern is clear in his tone, comforting me slightly.

"Um. I- I might have a s-slight fear of storms."

"Pfffft… slight fear? The girl has a phobia. How she survived in fucking Forks, I'll never know."

Edward and I turn to our walking interruption.

"By the way - I checked the forecast and I knew there was no chance you were going out in this weather so I am going to go over Jazzy's to give you two some privacy. You're welcome."

Neither of us speak, totally stunned by Alice's apparel: she is wearing tall brown boots with fringes around the top, a tan trench coat, a red feather hair-band, and blue stripes across her cheeks.

"Alice… what on earth are you wearing?"

She looks down "oh, this old thing? Jazzy has an obsession for cowboys so we're going to play a bit of cowboys and Indians."

I gape for a moment, unable to create a coherent sentence.

"Anyway, I must be off, Jasper is waiting! Have a great night… I know I will!"

She then struts out of the apartment, leaving Edward and I completely gobsmacked. Alice has always had a knack for making people speechless.

At the sound of the door slamming, Edward and I turn to each other, breaking out in a round of laughter. Amazingly, the storm is briefly forgotten.

"S-s-she," Edward stutters through his laughs "she's… something."

I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye, nodding "That's Alice for you…"

A loud crack of thunder breaks us from our laughter and a flash of lightening lights the room. I hide my head in Edward's chest, hoping I can somehow burrow there and avoid the storm.

I can feel the vibrations of laughter against my cheek, as he strokes my hair gently, "c'mon sweetheart."

He guides me over to the large chocolate coloured sofa, dropping down, and pulling me onto his lap.

"Why are you so scared of storms?" he whispers, rocking me like a baby.

I inhale deeply, pulling away from his chest, "growing up in Phoenix with my mother, well… I never really got a childhood. My mom, I love her with all my heart, but she's more like a best friend than a mother. When I was young, I did all the stuff that she was supposed to do – sorting the bills out, cooking and cleaning. She didn't expect it of me, but she was so eccentric and full of energy… well who else would do it? Then one night, when I was eight, she went on a date with her now husband- Phil, it was the beginning of their relationship so I hadn't met him yet. But she left me alone, and there was this huge storm and a power cut. I was beyond terrified, and I didn't know what to do, how to turn the power on, who to call. It was the first time I felt truly dependant on my mother."

I smile sadly at Edward, smoothing out his furrowed brow with my fingertips.

"Anyway, she did come home earlier than planned, but I was totally freaked out. I haven't been able to stick a storm out since. I think she felt really guilty about it, because whenever there was another storm, she'd always stay with me and build a massive fort and we'd have hot chocolates." I grin at the memory, "the last time we did something like that was when I was eleven or twelve."

He smiles sweetly, "how about we stay here tonight?"

"Are you sure? You don't have to, we can go out and do something more exciting another night." Internally, I am bouncing up and down at the thought of Edward and I staying in… in private.

"Bella, as long as I am with you, I'm happy."

I laugh, weaving my fingers into his bronze locks, "You know, you've become really corny."

He growls playfully, pushing against me so that he is hovering over me, the lines of his body matching mine.

"Take that back!" he says, nipping my chin.

"No!" I squeal.

His fingers assault my side, tickling under my arms, my stomach, beneath my chin. I laugh wildly, squirming in the hope to avoid his invading hands.

"N-no! Stop!" I giggle "E-Edward!"

He's laughing too, enjoying the torture he is inflicting. He then pulls away, leaving me a panting, sweating mess.

He smiles down at me, and places a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose.

"Maybe we could order food in?"

"I don't think I want anyone in that storm," I breathe heavily, "I'll cook. You choose some movies."

He nods, lifting his heavy body away from me. I point over to the high shelves at the corner of the room that are filled with a combination of my and Alice's DVD collection.

I stand up, straightening my clothing "Spaghetti sound good?"

"Great," he says over his shoulder "is there any genre you are opposed to?"

"Nah, Alice and I aren't that picky. We even like a good horror now and then."

"Well there goes my plan to get you scared and being you shoulder to cry on" he teases.

I roll my eyes, walking to the kitchen, "you wish Mason!"

"Where's the blankets and stuff. It may get cold!" he shouts.

"Good plan! There's some in my room! First door to the right! And in the linen cupboard which is opposite."

I start preparing our dinner, with a practiced hand. My Grandma Marie from my mother's side was Italian, so I like to think I inherited some of her genius when it comes to Italian food.

As I potter around the kitchen, I debate on how far I should go with Edward. I have never slept with someone after knowing them for a few weeks, let alone a few days. But Edward, he is different from everyone else. I don't feel ready to have sex with him, but perhaps second base was in sight…

I stir my famous sauce with a wooden spoon, the appetising scent filling my nostrils.

"Smells good," Edward compliments, leaning against the doorjamb, watching me.

I grin over my shoulder, "Grandma Marie's recipe. I have a secret ingredient, which makes it practically… _orgasmic_ " I wink.

He slowly walks over to me, growling "orgasmic… really?"

He picks my up, placing me on the counter besides the food. I wrap my arms and legs around him, my giggles turning into moans as he kisses up and down my neck slowly and sensually.

I close my eyes, tilting my head as he licks an intricate pattern upwards, leaving a hot, wet trail.

"Jesus, you gotta stop doing that, or the foods going to burn." I manage to say, eyes rolling.

"I'm more hungry for something else," he whispers, smoothing his hand up my leg suggestively.

"Is this payback for my comment on your corniness?" I am impressed that I can still form a sentence. He starts kissing my face, using his lips to trace the ridge of nose, my eyelids, and my brows. It is slow, it is sweet, it is all Edward.

A laugh rumbles in his chest, but he doesn't answer, continuing his exploration of my face.

"As much as I am enjoying this, the spaghetti is ready," I comment reluctantly.

He sighs, "We will finish this later?"

I detect a hopeful note in his tone. I stare him in the eye as I say my next words purposefully- "later." 

…

We eat dinner in the kitchen, and to say it is a success is an understatement. After Edward awarded me with an extremely seductive moan (which made me want to crawl across the table and devour him) he begged me for the secret recipe, to which I of course I denied.

His response made me shiver however- "I have ways to make you talk, Isabella."

 _This MAN!_

We flirt mercilessly, and exchange stories about our funny college experiences, and most embarrassing moments. I learn that he majored in music and was a bit of a rebel before College. It was a little bit up in the air, on whether he'd actually get in because of his increasingly mediocre grades and bad attitude. Luckily, he had managed to pull himself together within Senior Year and made a spectacular recovery that earned him a place at Julliard.

I in turn, admit that I am a bit of perfectionist. I like to keep on top of my work, and if I don't understand something, I tend pull all nighters to re-teach myself the material.

He teasingly calls me a geek, and I laughingly call him a pothead.

Whenever the subject of family comes up however, he becomes more introverted. He doesn't tell me anything. Not what his parent's names are, or whether he has siblings. It is frustrating, especially since I have told him all about my upbringing. He knows that both of my parents are remarried – Renee to Phil, and Charlie to Sue. He knows that I have a stepsibling on my father's side called Leah, who is sixteen and the typical, teenager- hateful of life and everyone in it.

Yet, all I know about Edward's family is that his best friend Emmett is like a brother to him, and has gotten him out of various sticky situations when he was a young, angry child.

I decide it is time to call him out on his stubbornness, so I place a hand on top of his, "Edward, what are your parents like?"

He looks down at his food, twiddling his second helping of spaghetti around his fork, "it's complicated."

I raise an eyebrow, but don't say anything, waiting patiently for him to expand.

He catches my expression and huffs, pushing his food away, "why do you want to know?"

I scoff, pulling my hand away "because you know practically everything there is about me, but I know nothing about your childhood or your family! Is it bad that I want to get to know you better?"

"Okay! Okay…" he sighs, and runs a hand over his face. He reaches over, and picks up my hand again, playing my fingers as he speaks.

"My parents names were Elizabeth and Edward Mason."

I swallow thickly, "were?"

He looks up, "they are dead Bella."

I get up from my seat opposite him to sit on his lap, bringing him into a comforting embrace, "I'm so sorry Edward" I whisper.

He presses his head against my chest, "it was a long time ago. I didn't know my dad, he died before I was born, hence why my mother named me after him."

I stay silent, letting him talk, "my mom had me at sixteen… but she was an absolutely incredible woman. She was a piano teacher and she loved to cook like you do. I miss her… a lot. She died in a car accident… on the way to meeting me."

His voice wavers towards the end, and his body gets limper as if the story is draining him. I tug the nape of his neck, so that I can look into his gorgeous emerald eyes.

They are shining with sadness, and what looked like guilt. I furrow my brow in confusion… what could he be possibly feeling guilty about?

"Why do you look so guilty? It was an _accident_ Edward! It had nothing to do with you whatsoever! She would be so proud of you, if she saw you now. If she saw what a caring, sweet man you are."

He gives me a small smile, but none of the guilt leaves his features.

I press my lips against his for the hundredth time that evening, trying to take away all his pain.

He kisses me back, frustration pouring into his actions as he grips me to him. He nibbles at my bottom lip, licking the sting away, and moving his tongue against mine languidly. Passion seeps into the kiss, our faces crushing together.

When we break apart, we are both red and breathing heavily.

"Do you know how long I've waited for you?" he asks so quietly, as if he is talking to himself.

I blush, feeling his hard on against my ass, "shall we go watch a movie?"

Edward nods, standing up with me still in his arms. He carries me to the living room, before pausing nervously as I take in the sight.

He has made a blanket fort.

He had moved the coffee table to the far side of the room, and placed my purple comforter across the floor. The blankets from the linen cupboard form a roof swinging from one side of the room to the other, held up by invisible support. There were pillows on the floor forming a nest-like setting, and he had put the lamps on creating a warm, cosy glow.

I am embarrassed when tears started to fill my eyes; I feel like I have been taken back to my childhood; to a part of it, when I actually felt like a child.

"Edward" I breathe.

I look up at him, to find him staring at me with a look that would've brought me to my knees had I been standing. Adoration is radiating from him. How can our feelings be developing so damn quickly?

The question, rather than making me scared shitless like earlier, makes me smile. What have I done to deserve this wonderful man?

"I can put everything away if you don't like it?" he asks unsurely.

I place my fingers against his lips, "it's perfect."

We sit down, and he puts a DVD into the player.

He settles down next to me, and I snuggle into his chest. I marvel at the feel of his strong heartbeat against my cheek, and the mouth-watering scent that surrounded me, that was simply Edward.

When the entry of 'Deadpool' comes on, I look up surprised.

He shrugs, "there's action, gore, comedy and a bit of romance. Plus Reynolds is in it."

I grin, "Got a bit of a guy crush on Ryan Reynolds, Mason?"

He smirks at me, "I'm self assured enough to say yes to that question."

I laugh, and lie back down. I can't remember the last time I laughed so much with another person, other than Alice. Alice always has me in stitches without even trying, but Edward makes me feel so comfortable and happy. Unlike any other man I have ever dated.

"Thank you for telling me about your parents, Edward," I say after a moment.

His hand goes up and down my back, "you were right. You need to know more about me, especially now we're dating."

I rise up onto my forearms, looking down at him with wide eyes "dating?"

He chuckles, "Isabella, now that I have you, I am never going to let you go."

"So…" I prompt.

His face loses all its humour, and a serious look fills his face "Isabella Swan, would you do me the honour of being my girlfriend?"

I watch him, running my fingertips up and down his cheek. He shivers at my touch.

"I'd love nothing more Edward Mason."

His face lights up, like a little boys at Christmas and I can't stop myself from leaning down. I kiss him sweetly. My curls fall over my shoulder, like a dark curtain, shielding us from the outside world. He weaves his fingers through them, whilst his other hand remains steady at my hip.

I raise my leg, so that I'm straddling his body. Our kisses growing insistent, as his teeth scrape against my lips and tongue deliciously... I groan, sending shakes through our kiss. He starts rising his hips, so I can feel his ever-growing erection against my increasingly wet pussy.

We make out heavily, moving our heads into angles that make our kisses impossibly deeper. Suddenly, it isn't enough. His hands travel under my sweater, his calluses feeling heavenly against my soft skin.

He yanks his head away, looking at me questioningly. I nod, knowing what he is asking. I cross my arms, pulling my top over my head, revealing my navy satin bra.

He sits up, and I help him pull off his shirt. It is the first time I have actually seen his body in full light, and it is glorious. He is lean, but he obviously works out, evident through his defined muscles.

He encircles my waist, so that we were skin to skin and starts devouring my neck, much like he did in the kitchen.

His fingers teasingly dance across my back, and up towards the latch of my bra, then back down again. His mouth lands on the part where my neck meets my shoulder, and he starts sucking, and biting the spot harshly but erotically. I gasp deeply.

Then my bra comes off, thrown to the side. He spins us around, so that I am beneath him.

He looks down at me, eyes on my breasts, "Jesus, they are even more beautiful than I imagined."

I blush, and he watches in amazement as the blush goes all the way down to my chest. Then my tattoo catches his eye- at the top of my ribcage, directly below my left breast.

"'I dream. Sometimes I think that's the only right thing to do,'" He reads aloud, tracing the swirling words "Sputnik."

I look at him, surprised, "You know him?"

He smiles cockily, "I'm full of surprises."

He then leans down, swiping his wet tongue across my tattoo. I arch my back and he leaves wet kisses around my breasts, before blowing cold air over them, making my nipples hard.

"Please Edward" I beg, grinding against him desperately.

"What do you want baby?"

Reminded of the night of Rosalie's, I feel my underwear grow wet again.

"Kiss them," I push his head gently but forcefully towards my tits.

He obligingly drops a soft kiss against my right nipple, making me jerk. He then takes my breast into the wet concave of his mouth, and all breath leaves me as he suckles, and nibbles my nipple.

His hands go to my back, bringing me upwards so that my whole breast is in his mouth. I groan at the sensation, his light stubble adding wonderful friction.

He then lets go, and gives the same attention to my left nipple. The cold air hits my right breast, causing goose bumps to spread over my skin.

I feel one of his hands leaving my back, his nails scraping down my spine, around to my belly, down to the button of my jeans. He hovers there, but I am feeling impatient, so I flick the button myself.

His hand slips down the front of my jeans, and my breathing hikes. He draws around the lace of my underwear, then slips his hand fully in.

"Christ Bella, is all this for me?" he asks stunned, feeling my wetness.

"Only for you" I whisper.

He growls, kissing me furiously. His fingers then glide over my slick folds, massaging them, and making me gasp. He traces circles over my clit; I rise, trying to push them harder against me.

He glares playfully, pushing me softly but firmly down. He continues to tease my clit, with wonderful, probing touches while I whither.

Then he slides one finger into me. I squeeze my eyes tightly together, unable to control the moans that fall from my lips as he addsanother, moving them in and out. He curls them, hitting my G-spot.

He stares at me, like I am a rare jewel: with absolute awe and wonder. He looks at me like he cherishes me. He leaves sweet, tender pecks around my face that burn against my skin

"You are so tight and wet, Beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous." He murmurs between each loving kiss.

With the combination of his fingers, voice and mouth that has moved downward massaging my breasts at the same rhythm as his fingers, I close my eyes, the pit of my belly exploding as I come fast and hard. Stars dot my vision, and I collapse, sated and exhausted.

Edward removes his hand, and licks his fingers.

Was it possible, that after that insane orgasm, I could come again, seeing him do that?

"You are absolutely delicious. I don't think I have ever seen someone so stunning in my life."

I smile, dazed, "That was amazing. Thank you…"

I trail my own hand down his body towards his jeans, but he stops me, a painful smile spreading over his face.

"Not tonight baby."

I stare at him, shocked, "no? Are y-you… I mean, don't you want to?"

He crashes his lips against mine, "Bella, trust me, I am suffering a major case of blue balls. You have no idea how much I want you. But tonight is about _you."_

He gets off my body, lying down next to me and bringing me tightly to his side. My breasts press up against his bare skin.

"I'll repay you soon" I breathe.

He chuckles, "oh, I'll definitely take you up on that."

He hugs me to him, and I sigh as my eyes grow heavy.

"Stay tonight," I say, drearily.

"Really? You sure?"

"I don't want you out in the storm. I want you safe."

I feel a soft pressure against my hair, "okay, baby. Go to sleep."

I nod, burying myself deeper into his chest.

"Good night gorgeous."


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer- all these obscenely good-looking characters belong to the one and only Stephanie Meyer! Any other pop culture references also do not belong with me ***_ _ **cry**_ _ *****_

 _ **Hello everyone! I am sure there are many of you who are getting a little impatient with my inconsistent updating, but juggling FF and Uni has been a bit difficult for me (especially as I am a Lit and Journalism student XD). I just wanted to thank you for all those who are sticking with the story and me. Each and every one of your reviews, favourites and follows are really appreciated – I love you all!**_

 _ **I also wanted to say, amongst all the love, thank you for all the constructive criticism on the chapters. I have tried to apply some of your critique, and I hope to continue to grow as a writer with your help! Also, I apologise for any Britishisms you may notice in my writing. As many of you might've noticed, I am from the UK, therefore I may spell or word things a little differently. Someone has wondered why (being British) would I set my story in the US. Well… I see FF as a creative outlet, and a way for writers to express themselves. I am an amateur writer, who wants to get some work out there. What I write isn't perfect or professional, but it is written from the heart. If you don't care for my mistakes, then (no offence intended) maybe read something that has been edited and published**_ __ _ **.**_

 _ **Anyway… sorry for the rant! I hope you enjoy the next chapter of my story, and please review to tell me what you think… Lemony moments await! And special shout out to the wonderful DisneyGirl01 for all your help and encouragement!xx**_

 _ **Lots of love xo**_

 _ **6.**_

 _ **BPOV**_

Three tips to survive a 9am lecture:

1) Do not spend the night before with a completely disarming, beautiful man with his distracting lips and thought provoking conversation.

2) Never wake up forty minutes before said lecture, in the arms of your (as previously mentioned) boyfriend, who will attempt to convince you (in his really sexy, husky morning voice) to ditch your lecture and spend the rest of the morning with him lying on the floor of your sitting room.

3) Leave phone at home in case the man - who is determined to flush your education down the toilet - texts you dirty words and romantic sentiments.

I haven't answered Edward's texts, as part of a half-hearted attempt to actually concentrate on whatever my lecturer is babbling on about.

 _What he is talking about counts for forty percent of your final grade Bella…_

But I can't stop myself from reading what he is writing. Texts from Edward Mason beat Mark Twain any day of the week.

 _Bet you wish you didn't ditch me for Shakespeare now, beautiful;) -E_

 _I had some pretty amazing dreams of you Angel, but last night put them all to shame. -E_

 _Mind you, I am partial to your Fat Boy fantasy…-E_

 _Seriously though, I had an incredible night. I can't stop thinking about you. I am working at Eclipse tonight, but give me a call when I can see you again xx -E_

I sigh at the last text, tucking the phone back into my pocket. He is becoming a bad influence, but I can't find it within me to care. Edward makes me feel alive in so many ways. I mean sure, he isn't exactly perfect; he is cocky and weirdly mysterious when it comes to his past, but he is also kind of perfect for me.

An involuntary smile spreads across my face as I think about earlier this morning at my apartment.

 _I quickly pulled a long sleeve purple top over my head; whizzing around the room like a tornado. "SHIT! I am so late!" I pulled on my Chucks, and ran a hand through my semi-decent hair. The lecture was focusing on poetry. Now, as an English student – of course, I can appreciate poetry to a certain degree, but there were certain aspects of it that just didn't click with me. In comparison with novels, play and scriptwriting – it was something I did struggle with._

" _Baby, calm down, I can drive you."_

 _I turned to my boyfriend. He looked beyond edible with his tousled hair, shirtless body and unbuttoned jeans that hung low on his hips, "You are my saviour."_

 _I rose onto my tiptoes, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips in thanks. Of course, instead of it being a brief peck, he placed his hands under my ass, wrapping my legs around his waist and started kissing my neck._

 _I giggled, feeling his hard on "Edward, we can't! I am so late…"_

" _Let's be later…" He growled against my skin, gently nibbling at my pulse point. We toppled over onto my bed: him on top._

" _Mmm, tempting. But seriously I can't miss this, I already suck at Chaucer."_

" _Shakespeare can wait five more minutes."_

" _You mean Twa- whoa."_

 _He deliciously sucked a spot behind my ear; making my eyes roll._

" _Okay, but just_ five minutes _!"_

"And that's it for today."

I shake my head, gathering my books in my arms. I will text Edward when I get back to the apartment. Right now, I desperately need coffee in my system.

"Swan!"

 _Oh for fuck's sake. Out of all the days…_

I slowly turn towards the bane of my existence with a tight smile. Deep breathes, Bella.

"Tyler" I acknowledge.

The cocky son of a bitch struts towards me with a walk that implies that he believes he is far better good looking than he really is.

Tyler Crowley has been trying to get into my pants since the start of NYU. He is a serial dater; known on campus for his obscene amount of conquests, and he can't seem to grasp why I was not (under any circumstances) interested.

"How is my girl doing?" He grins, slipping an arm around my shoulders.

I immediately shrug it off in irritation "I am not your girl Tyler."

I march off, swerving through the mass amount of students, hoping to lose him. Of course, it is a fruitless effort.

"But you could be, if you would agree to go on that date with me. C'mon Bells, stop playing hard to get."

Persistence only looks good on Edward.

I turn sharply towards him, "look Tyler, I'm flattered, but I am actually seeing someone."

His face doesn't lose any of its smugness, and I search it for any redeeming qualities that somehow make up for his atrocious personality. It astounds me that he got so many girls. He has normal brown eyes, mousey curly hair, and an average build… definitely not my type.

"Beat it Crowley."

I look over his shoulder at Alice with a relieved grin.

"Brandon," Tyler stutters, turning to my best friend. I'm always amused by Tyler's terror of my little pixie. It began in junior year, when she kneed him in the balls when he tried to kiss her. His crotch must remember her.

She raises a slender eyebrow at him, "shoo."

He gives me one last longing look, before scurrying away.

I laugh, linking an arm through Alice's, "my hero."

She giggles, leading me away from the building "Y'know what would've been even better? If Edward had been with me! That guy would shit bricks if he saw him!"

I blush; Edward getting territorial is an intriguing image.

"How did last night go?"

"Amazing," I sigh, "we had dinner, and watched a movie" _kinda._

"Ooh, Netflix and chill? Was it good?"

My cheeks floods with heat and my voice catches in my throat. The way his skin felt against mine, his lips trailing down my body, his long musical fingers. He is beyond my wildest dreams.

"Fuck, you're speechless!" Alice squeals.

I giggle nervously, "It was unbelievable Ali."

"And did you give him any sugar back?" she prods.

"Uh…"

She halts her steps at my hesitation, surprise overtaking her features.

"What! You didn't?"

"I tried!" I defend, "but he said 'tonight's all about you.'"

She looks at me thoughtfully before continuing her quick pace "Okay, I guess that's sweet. And really rare… I mean, what man would turn down a blow job?"

I shrug, equally bewildered "he said that I could repay the favour another time. He was so romantic though, and…"

"And?"

"He may have asked me to be his girlfriend…"

"NO FUCKING WAY!"

I curse, covering her mouth. We are in the middle of a busy sidewalk, and there are people staring. But Alice pays no attention to me, choosing to jump up and down with excitement.

"Ahhhhhhhh!"

"Alice! Can you save this for the apartment?"

"You have a _boyfriend! Bella has a boyfriend!"_

She gets her phone out and starts texting furiously.

"What the hell? Alice, who are you texting? You know that I've had a boyfriend before, right?"

"Yeah, two! Riley 'the bore' and Felix 'the cat' certainly do not count!"

"Felix the cat?"

"Look, no right parent would call their kid 'Felix'! It's a cat's name!"

"Says the girl who is dating 'Jasper'."

"Hey! Jasper is a very strong name! Did you know Jazzy was named after his great, great, great, great grandpappy Jasper, who was a General in the Civil War?" A dreamy look falls over her features, "Mmm, Jazzy in a uniform…"

I roll my eyes, "Focus Alice."

She shakes her head, "right. Anyway, my point is – Edward is the first, really serious boyfriend you have ever had! Plus he's hot."

She goes back to her phone.

"Who are you texting?"

"Jazzy. We made a bet on when he'd ask you."

"You made a _bet_ on my relationship?"

"Yep. I said it would be this week. He thought it would be at least until next week, after your third date or something."

"What have you won?"

She wiggles her eyebrows at me, "well, there's thing Jasper can do with his tongue…"

"REWIND, REWIND, REWIND! Do not need to know!"

"You asked" she huffs.

"And don't I regret it" I mutter.

"Really though, I am so happy for you Bells. I couldn't think of a person who deserves love more than you."

"Whoa, slow down. No love!"

"Yet."

I chuckle, ignoring her.

Alice grins at my silence, "so you are seeing him tonight?"

"He's working at Eclipse."

"So?"

"So, he's working."

"You can surprise him! He's your boyfriend! We could make a night of it."

"I don't know Alice… We've been out a lot lately."

"We are twenty two Bella, not fifty two. C'mon, lets go and buy a new dress. As a celebration of both of us having fit boyfriends."

Can't argue with that logic.

…

"Do I look fat?"

Alice walks into my room in a mango coloured dress that appeared like a second skin on her petite body. She runs a self-conscious hand over her stomach.

I look at her confused, "Alice, there's literally not an ounce of fat on you."

"I know, but I have this really weird feeling…"

"What feeling?"

"Its nothing," she dismisses "I don't like it. I think I preferred the fuchsia one."

I nod, remembering the pretty, pink sweetheart dress she had also bought earlier. Alice is a shopaholic in every sense of the word.

"I am so glad you got that dress over the blue one. You look absolutely stunning."

I stare at the floor length mirror. The dress is a gorgeous emerald green that remind me of Edward's eyes. It is lacy and fits like a glove, with thin straps, and a flattering neckline, that draw eyes to my cleavage. I love it.

"It's not too much?"

Alice waves away my insecurities, "Go big or go home. I have amazing gold coloured, faux crocodile skin heels you could wear with it as well!"

I just agree, letting her go onto her fashion tangent. I wonder if Edward will be okay with me surprising him. Sure, his texts _imply_ that he wants to see me, but I didn't want to come across as too clingy…

"Isabella Marie Swan."

My eyes dart over to see an exasperated look on my best friend's face.

"He's going to be thrilled to see you."

"You don't know that," I argue weakly.

"Bella, you look incredible, he asked you to be his girlfriend, he sexed you up and asked for nothing in return… I think it's safe to say he's smitten. Trust me. Now stop with all this self-pity, put on some sexy underwear and curl your hair. We are going to see your boyfriend, not the fucking crypt-keeper."

…

To say I am going through some major déjà vu is an understatement.

The dance floor is tightly packed with bodies that wave in unison to The Killer's 'Mr Brightside'.

Alice tugs on my hand, gesturing over to Jasper who had bagged a booth at the far corner of the room.

I shake my head pointing to the bar "You go ahead! I'm going to see Edward… want anything?"

She shakes her head, giving me a soft shove towards Edward before hurrying to her boyfriend.

I straighten my back, and run my hands down my dress for any non-existent creases.

 _Coming outta my cage,_

 _And I've been doin' just fine_

 _Gotta, gotta me down because I want it all._

I automatically smile at the sight of my boyfriend, who is leaning against the bar. He looks beyond delicious in his muscle hugging, v-neck black tee and jeans – the Eclipse logo blazed across his right peck.

But as I continue to gape, it is then I see the scary scowl marring his face. His emerald eyes that usually shine with mischief and adoration are now shooting daggers, making me stop in my tracks.

Thankfully, I see that the dangerous glare isn't pointed at me but at another woman directly opposite him.

I can't see distinct features, but as I walk closer, my hearts beats faster. It is Rosalie Cullen. As in, Rosalie 'Socialite, model for Burberry and Chanel' Cullen. My palms sweat as I take in the halter dress she is wearing that pour over her curves like water. Her wavy golden hair is pulled back into a high ponytail showing off her long neck.

It is someone like Rosalie who I'd typically pair with someone as beautiful as Edward, but seeing the equal level of disdain on her face, soothes me.

"You shouldn't fucking be here Rosalie."

"You aren't answering my calls, _Eddie._ " I hear her retort fiercely. Again I feel anxious… why would Rosalie have my Edward's number? Is she an old flame? How the hell was I supposed to compete with her?

As I reach the bar it is like Edward senses my presence because his gaze snaps from Rosalie, straight to me. I am both relieved and delighted by the way his furious expression melts into one of pure joy.

"Bella?"

He walks from his spot before Rosalie, over to me, leaning over the bar. He then takes my face between his two hands, and kisses me gently.

"What are you doing here?" He says between pecks, refusing to release my face.

"Surprise!" I grin.

He smiles hugely, "Awesome surprise. You look absolutely breathtaking."

He kisses me again and for a moment, I forget the stunning blonde waiting for Edward and the chaotic club scene. For that second all I feel is his lips moving against mine in a rhythmic and familiar way.

"Edward?"

My boyfriend sighs, pulling away, but taking my hand into his.

"What Rosalie?" he asks, irritated.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?"

"No."

He turns his back on her, staring at me softly.

"Is it weird that I have missed you terribly?"

I grin, "I missed you too."

"Fine. But seriously Edward, you are not getting out of this." Rosalie interrupts, glaring.

"Oh, get lost Rose." He throws back without a second glance.

The blonde huffs and struts away, fading into the masses. I look up questionably into Edward's eyes, "what was all that about?"

"Nothing."

I raise an eyebrow, "obviously not Edward, you two were fighting like cats and dogs. How do you know her?"

"She's nobody, Bella. Forget about it." He dodges my questions, making me feeling increasingly more agitated… And scared – what is he hiding?

"See! This is what I meant last night! Edward, how can we be in a relationship if I don't even know anything about you?"

He lets out a hard laugh, releasing my hand "Jesus Christ, Bella! We've been dating… what? Twenty hours? I told you something about myself last night! Surely you don't need to know everything about me. Stop being so fucking nosey!"

I step back, glaring "Whatever Edward. I thought you understood where I was coming from last night. You keep to yourself on every little facet about your life, and now that I am apart of it, is it so bad that I want to know about you?"

I don't wait for him to answer, spinning around towards the dance floor. Fuck him. He is so wary about everything he tells me, was it so bad that I (his fucking girlfriend) want to get to know him beyond the trivia?

 _It started out with a kiss,_

 _How did it end up like this?_

 _It was only a kiss,_

 _It was only a kiss!_

For a second I just freeze, feeling the tension in my body vibrate through me but as the song continues, I begin to sway along with it raising my arms.

Then a pair of large hands settles on my waist, and I feel someone's hard on rub against my ass. I roll my eyes, and turn, ready to give Edward a piece of my mind.

However, instead I meet the dark eyes of Tyler fucking Crowley.

I immediately put my hands on his wrists, pushing myself away.

"What the hell Crowley?" I shout.

"You look so hot Bella," the asshole slurs, taking possession of my waist again.

I try to wriggle from his grasp but the fucker has such a hold on me that I do not budge.

"Keep your hands off me!" I scream, but my voice drowns in the music.

"Why won't you date me Bell-aa?"

"Because you are a slime ball Tyler. Now please, get off me!"

Rather than moving away however, he leans in puckering his lips slightly. He is so close, that I can smell the conflicting scent of tobacco and alcohol.

I place both hands on his chest, pushing hard against him, but then suddenly he is gone.

I gasp, as Edward holds Tyler by the scruff of his neck with a face like thunder. If I thought he was angry before, it doesn't hold a candle to the fury that practically radiates from him now.

He brings Tyler close to him, balling his shirt between his hands and almost spitting in his face.

"You stay the _fuck_ away from my girl, you understand me?" his words and tone sound so menacing that it sends shivers down my spine. Tyler nods his head madly, his features frozen in terror.

"If I see you near her again, I will not hesitate to beat your ass. Now get the hell out of my club."

He shoves Tyler backwards into the arms of a burly man that I have never seen before. Mr Muscles nods at Edward, and lugs Tyler's drunken body towards the door.

I watch, completely dumbstruck by what had just occurred. Adrenaline courses through me like an electric shock. _What just happened?_

I am only vaguely aware that Edward takes my hand, dragging me from the dance floor, towards a door that reads "STAFF ONLY."

He leads me through a muted light corridor, and pulls me into a room. I don't even have time to take in my surroundings, before he circles me.

"What the hell was that Bella?"

I stand still, shocked "What? He was the one coming on to _me!"_

"Not that. I saw what that fucker was doing to you. What I mean is – what the hell were you thinking when you just walked away from me?" he seethes.

I stalk up to him, stabbing my finger into his chest "fuck you Edward! I came here tonight, not to start an argument, but because I wanted to see my boyfriend! I thought last night, we had finally made… I dunno a turning point? Progress? You are always so freaking protective over your past! What are you hiding from me?"

His hand tugs on his hair "Bella, my life is complicated! Can't you understand that while I really want to share my life with you, it's going to take me time? That I have trouble with trusting people?"

I push at him "Why didn't you tell me that before asshole? Why does it take me screaming at you, for you to finally tell me something? Did you know how I felt when I walked in and saw you talking to someone as beautiful as Rosalie Cullen? How I didn't know anything about your past – whether she was a friend, or an ex-girlfriend?"

"Rosalie Cullen doesn't hold a fucking torch to you Bella. It isn't like that. She is someone from the past, and with time I will tell you. But please, I need _time."_

We stand inches apart, chests heaving, staring and trying to figure the other out.

When the tension gets too much, I grip the neck of his t-shirt between my hands, and plunge his lips to mine.

He holds my waist to him like a vice, driving his tongue into my mouth almost violently. We stand there making out, tearing the others hair out.

He walks me backwards, stopping at a large oak desk that I completely missed in my anger. He sweeps his arm across it, flinging papers and pens to the floor so that I can lie on top of it.

I bite at his lips, scraping my teeth against his tongue, while his fingers make torturous patterns up the length of my legs. I hike my right leg around his hip, bringing him closer to me.

He backs away, and I glare at him, needing him desperately. But, then he pushes my skirt up to my hips. He gazes at me questioning.

I nod, lifting my hips.

He pins my waist down, and I gasp as I felt his nose nudges against the soaking lace of my panties. Then, with his teeth, he slides my panties down my legs, over my heels, and on to the floor.

"Is this okay?" He asks sexily, rubbing his thumbs against my ankles that are wrapped around his neck.

"Yes!"

He grins, bending back down and blowing a cold trail over my aching slit. My hips buck off the desk, and he tsks.

"Now baby, patience."

I growl, and he chuckles.

He then runs his soft, hot tongue over my aching folds, alternating between soft sucks and long swipes.

My eyes roll to the back of my head and I exhale.

"You taste fucking insane, Angel" Edward murmurs.

His mouth moves in a rhythm that makes my body sing, and I can see stars as I feel myself reaching my climax.

"Edwaaaaaaard!" I squeal, as I orgasm wave after glorious wave.

For several minutes, I feel completely paralysed, my whole body feeling like goo. But when I look up at Edward and his smug crooked grin, determination replaces my mellowness.

I swing my legs over the desk, pulling my dress back over my hips, "Your turn" I whisper.

His eyes widen, and I internally laugh as I push him towards the wall.

When his back meets the hard concrete, I slide to my knees.

"Bella, baby, you really don't have to…"

"Twice you have pleasured me," I say, unbuckling his belt "now it's my turn."

He remains silent as I pull down his jeans and boxers.

His dick is absolutely massive. Like seriously – I wonder for a moment how the hell it was going to fit inside me in the future.

He is seriously hard, and I worry that his balls are going to go blue.

I gather the pre-cum with my thumb, drawing it up his length, and smoothing up and down slowly.

I hear a thump against the wall and a low groan.

I then take his balls between my hands, massaging them gently, before taking him into my mouth.

"FUCK!"

I stroke what I can't fit into my mouth, and softly begin to suck.

It doesn't take long before he comes.

I swallow deeply. I barely give blowjobs, let alone swallowing, so to say I am satisfied is an understatement.

I pull his boxers and jeans back up and redo his belt, but Edward remains completely in a trance.

He stares into space, his eyes glazed over, and I can't help but giggle.

He shakes his head, bringing me close and kissing me passionately.

"Fuck, you are absolutely incredible."

He kisses me with such enthusiasm that I can feel myself get wet all over again.

He then brings my wrists to his lips, kissing them lightly, then kneeling before me to give the same treatment to my hipbones.

"I could've killed him when I saw him grip onto you like that" he murmurs between his sweet pecks. He kisses every part that Tyler touched.

I run a hand through his bronze hair, "he was drunk."

"No fucking excuse."

He stands back up and cradles me in his arms, making me feel safe and secure.

We remain in our little bubble for what could have been seconds or minutes. I then pull back as a thought hits me.

"Fuck, you are so fired!"

He laughs, running his fingers through my tangled hair.

"Don't worry about it Angel."

"What do you mean 'don't worry about it' Edward!" I ask frantically, looking at the destruction, we had made in what appears to be an office.

Fuck, we had sex in his boss's office.

"Baby, calm down."

"I'm so sorry, Edward!" I sniff "I shouldn't have come! Now you won't have a job and…"

"Hey! Bella! I – I, well… I kind of own this place."

For what feels like the millionth time this evening, I feel frozen. I stare at him with astonishment, "Wait… what?"

He looks at me nervously, "Well I part-own it. With Emmett."

I sigh. Another thing that he failed to tell me... Great.

"Bella?"

"Don't worry Edward, I'm not going to go off on another one again."

He exhales loudly, "I know, I should've told you. But like I said before – I just need…"

"Time." I interject "I know."

He smiles tiredly, "Look, can we just move past this?" He steps closer, taking my hands into his "I know it's frustrating. _Believe me._ But I will tell you everything, soon. I promise."

"Really?"

He rubs his nose against mine "I think I am well on the way to falling for you Miss Swan. In my heart I know I can trust you. It is my head that needs to catch up. Please, I just need you to be a little patient with me, I'll get there."

And as I look into his emerald eyes – I believe him.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Disclaimer- all characters sadly belongs to the one and only Stephanie Meyer!**_

 _ **Hi guys! I can only apologise with how bloody long this chapter has taken to be published. I am not going to lie – I have been having some serious writer's block with this chapter. In one draft I did a massive time jump which really made no sense at all, then in another I wrote the whole thing in third person, before it hit me that it was supposed to be in FIRST PERSON! It has been an absolute nightmare.**_

 _ **But here it is, the next chapter! I am already writing the next, so hopefully that should be out in a week! I hope you all had an absolutely amazing Christmas, and wish you all a very safe and happy new year!**_

 _ **Thank you for all your reviews/follows/favourites, by the way, believe me when I say – each and every one is read with a huge smile. I love you all.**_

 _ **Enjoy xo**_

 _ **7.**_

 _ **BPOV**_

Once we had cleaned ourselves and the room up, Edward gently takes one of my hands into his, entwining our fingers together. He smiles down at me; but in his eyes, I can see inner conflict.

"What's wrong?"

He raises his free hand, tucking a long chocolate strand behind my ear. "I'm sorry for being a coward."

I shake my head in disagreement, holding his hand to my cheek, "Edward, I get it. Okay? I may not like you keeping things from me; but you are right. We have only been officially dating for a day – I should not ask so much of you."

Edward sighs with frustration, running a hand through his hair "Bella you aren't asking too much… that's the thing. As your boyfriend, I should tell you everything about me. But it's just so damn complicated."

"I can wait." I whisper, "baby steps. I am not going anywhere."

He bends down, pressing his lips to mine. The kiss is all lips and no tongues; and although brief and soft, is beyond perfect. Much like every other kiss, we have shared.

"Yo! Ed?"

I tear myself away from Edward, looking at the closed door.

"Emmett" Edward mouths, before turning to the door. " _What?_ " he yells, irritation ringing in his tone.

"Whoa, no need for the attitude Eddie. Am I interrupting your daily wanking session again? Because if so, dude, I told you to put a fucking sock on the door."

Between Emmett's loud words and the mortified look on Edward's face, I burst into laughter, giggles wracking my body hysterically.

"Wait! You have a girl in there? Is it _Bella?"_ When he says my name, his voice adopts a high pitch manner and I can almost see this faceless man batting his eyelashes.

"Oh for the love of God."

Edward stalks over to the door, pulling it open viciously "Do you ever know when to shut the fuck up?"

I look over my boyfriend's shoulder to see the famous Emmett for the very first time.

The guy is _massive._

Edward is tall, but Emmett has at least three inches on him. His body is also very broad: his biceps bulging against his 'Eclipse' black tee. What is so intriguing about Emmett, however, is the fact that his face totally contradicts his body. His baby blue eyes, paired with cute dimples and cheeky grin makes him look almost boyish, completely different to the overly masculine quality of his body. His curly brown hair falls into his eyes as he takes me in.

He shoves Edward to the side, holding his hand out to me, beaming.

"My, my so _this_ is the famous Isabella Swan. I must say Eddie; you are definitely punching above your weight here. Now Bella, how about you leave Channing Tatum over there, and marry me instead."

He wiggles his eyebrows, and winks jokingly.

I chuckle shaking my head, "so you must be the famous Emmett"

Emmett beams; his dimples made even more prominent "I like this one James Dean! She knows what she's talking about!"

Edward rolls his eyes, kissing my forehead "You got rid of him?"

Emmett's jovial expression instantly morphs into a serious one, "Yeah, and I told D not under any circumstances to let him back in."

He then turns back to me, smiling "you gave us quite the scare K-Stew."

"K-Stew?"

Edward groans, "Emmett has this stupid joke-"

"Hey! It's not stupid! It's genius! You see Angelina; I like to name Eddie after all these famous heartthrobs because of his pretty boy looks. And now you're his GF, that automatically makes you his leading lady!"

"But Kristen Stewart isn't even dating Robert Patt-"

"La-la-la! I can't hear you!" Emmett yells, plugging his ears, "R-Patz and K-Stew belong together. And Stella Maxwell is all mine!'

I giggle at his logic. He is crazy… but I can clearly see why Edward loves him so much.

Suddenly, his head shoots up, like a bloodhound catching the scent of a fox.

Emmett's eyes scan the room, and I can't help but shift nervously. I feel like a child who has been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. While Emmett never caught us engaging in the actual act – I am suddenly aware of the smell of sex that lingers strongly in the air.

"You did good Eddie. But you forgot about the Box."

I look at Edward, puzzled "Box?"

Edward turns pale, shaking his head "Emmett…"

"Oh c'mon Eddie. Bella is probably going to be a regular round here. If you forgot the Box, then she should know!"

I am growing increasingly more confused by Emmett's mischievous smirk and Edward's embarrassed stance.

"Can someone please tell me what this Box is?"

Emmett laughs, walking to the desk. He bends down, yanking open a drawer and pulls out a cardboard box.

"Emmett, stop! You are going to embarrass her!" Edward says through gritted teeth.

Feeling curious, I round the desk and open the Box.

I wish I hadn't.

Air freshener, four boxes of L-XL condoms, disinfectant wipes and hand gel. I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks.

"Fucking hell Emmett!" Edward shouts, picking the Box up and putting it away. "I thought you were fucking around when you mentioned it!"

Emmett cackles, to the point where tears are running down his face, "P-p-protection Eddie! This is my office to – I don't wanna sit in here when your nasty is all on my laptop."

I moan slapping my forehead.

Edward glares at Emmett, "See!"

Emmett turns apologetic, "sorry, B. I'm not making fun of _you_ though, trust me. Honestly, I want to congratulate you! I can't remember the last time Eddie got lai-"

"And on that note, we are leaving!" Edward interrupts, pulling me away from his best friend.

"It was great meeting you Kate! Bring my girl back won't you, Will?" He shouts.

"You too Harry!"

His laughter echoes after us.

…

Edward tugs my hand, heading towards the back exit.

"I am so sorry love. Honestly, I'm going to kick his ass tomorrow."

I giggle, "don't do that… but maybe you should put him on clean up duty."

He awards me with a broad smile, "I like the way your mind works, Swan. Besides that though, I think that went rather well. What do you think?

"He seems great. I can't get over how… um – big he is."

He laughs again, "yeah, it really works to our advantage when we have the odd violent drunk. He can be really intimidating when he wants to be."

"I can't imagine him being scary. Just a giant teddy bear."

He holds the heavy fire-exit door open, gesturing me to go first. The cold autumn air hits me instantly, making my skin break out in goose bumps.

At my shiver, Edward pulls me into his chest, quickly bringing us to the trunk of a gleaming BMW. I gawk at the gorgeous car as he opens the trunk and pulls out a huge leather jacket.

"Here, wear this."

He holds up the jacket, so I can slip my arms through the sleeves. I almost sigh at the feeling of warmth that now encases my body, and inhale the scent that is purely Edward. He smells like fresh air; all pine trees and rain. I wish I could bottle it.

"How about we have that third date?"

I halt my actions, looking up at him. He is pulling out a thick black coat, his expression appearing hopeful.

"It's the early hours of the morning."

"Oh, right" he looks dejected "then I'll just take you h-"

"No! I'd love to… but where could we go?"

He smiles largely, leading me to the passenger seat – "My, my Isabella Swan. Haven't you learnt not to doubt me?"

…

"You have so much music." I observe, scrolling through his iPod.

Really, he has everything on there: Tchaikovsky. Debussy. Chopin. U2. The Beach Boys. Fleetwood Mac. Coldplay. Dire Straits. The Killers.

He shrugs, as I finally land on The Cure.

"I've always loved music, since I was a kid. My family supported it as a hobby, although I don't think they were too pleased when I learnt less… sophisticated instruments like the drums. When I decided to take it up in College however… well, lets just say that there were one or two explosions."

I gaze at him, half elated that he is sharing this piece of his past, and half irritated. Not at him, but at his family. While Renée hasn't been the most maternal, she has always encouraged me to see that the sky is the limit. She would be content if I had decided to spend the rest of my life on the street, playing the bongos for spare change, as long as I am happy.

"I wish I could hear you play."

He briefly takes his eyes of the road to smile at me, "I would love to play for you."

Entwining our fingers together, we revel in the promise; and listen to the music in peace.

…

"We're here."

My eyes scan the street. It is still rather busy; girls in tight dresses and heels wobble, avoiding cracks in the sidewalk and men lean against the entrances of bars, smoking cigarettes.

Edward opens the door for me, helping me out. Under his left arm, he has a large box.

"Please say that isn't The Box?"

"I can't believe Emmett went there," Edward huffs "no, this is a surprise."

"Where are we?"

He points to a large red brick building with large, panelled windows. Other than that, I can't distinguish anything as the lights are out. It appears closed.

Edward pulls out of his coat a long chain, with a bunch of keys on it.

I raise a questioning eyebrow teasingly, "don't tell me you own another business…"

"Ha ha. No, this is a photography studio. It belongs to my friend from college – Garrett's girlfriend Kate. I was planning to bring you here tomorrow, but… well, the opportunity presented itself."

He gently tugs me into a spacious reception, flicking on the lights as we walk. It is all white, with dark wooden plank floors and spotlight lightening; creating a sleek and modern effect.

We pause in front of a set of double doors.

"Okay, stay here; I just need to set up."

I nod, refraining from peeking around him as he slips through the doors.

I gaze around the corridor, which has a few black and white prints dotted on the walls. They range from absolutely stunning landscapes, that are to such a high quality, that I feel like I could almost jump through – they are like windows.

Other photos are of a handsome man with longish dark hair, beard and equally dark eyes. It seems that he is also a musician. There are some shots of him bending over a guitar, his fingers reverently holding the instrument; his eyes closed with a small smile curling his lips. He looks like he is in his own world. Then there is one, were he is topless, whisking some sort of mixture in a bowl with his head thrown back in laughter.

The photos were so candid and intimate, that I can feel the warmth settle in my stomach as I stare at each photo. The love this photographer – Kate – holds for her subject – who I assume is Garrett – is undeniable.

After several minutes, Edward finally pops his head around the door.

"Okay, ready" He states, coyly.

I step inside, inquisitively. Flickering light, grabbing my attention. When I am fully inside the room, a loud whoosh of air escapes my chest.

The room is huge, and the western wall is glass. Similar to the corridor, there are prints dotting the walls.

However, the photographs are not what I am stunned by.

In the corner of the room, a projector is set: casting images of the starry sky against the white walls. The Milky Way entrancingly moves over the walls; beautiful colours of purple, blue and white.

In the centre of the room lies a double comforter and pillows, amongst a dozen tea-candles.

"Edward," I breathe, walking to the comforter.

I kneel down, pulling off my heels, and gaze around in awe. On the ceiling, there are the planets. Earth. Mars. Jupiter. Neptune. It is like a whole other world.

My head whips to Edward, who is leaning against the wall, hands deep inside his pockets. I blush when I see the look on his face. He stares at me with such adoration, that I can genuinely feel my palms clam up.

"Aren't you going to join me?"

He walks over, sitting next to me.

We stay silent for a moment, before lying down side by side.

I can feel his left side flush against mine, and the hairs of his arms on my skin; the heat practically radiates from him.

"How did you do this?" I ask, my eyes tracing the planets.

"I called Kate – who is dying to meet you by the way –and asked her if we could use this room. Apparently, when she was young, she wanted to be an astronaut," he chuckled "as she got older of course her aspirations changed to photography, but she held a special place in her heart for astronomy. This room is dedicated to space. They usually use it for kids on school trips but… I find it kind of, I don't know – magical?"

I nod in understanding.

"Anyway, I stowed the comforter here earlier, then there was just the matter of the candles a–"

His speech escapes him as I press an urgent kiss to his lips.

I place a hand on either side of his neck, bringing him up so I could kiss him thoroughly. He never ceases to amaze me. The concert, the fort, _this._ Everything he does, he puts his heart and soul into. Nobody has ever gone through such an effort for me; and I have to show my appreciation for it.

He moans against my kisses, and opens his mouth, his tongue snaking out to meet mine in that wonderful rhythm.

I pull away from him, which he groans at but then proceed to peck at his face. His cheekbones, forehead, eyelids, chin – sweetly but sensually.

I kiss every part of him but avoid his lips, licking my way down his neck and sucking at his strong Adam's apple.

I can feel his vibrations against my lips, as he turns so that he is on top of me. He watches me for a second, stroking my face with his thumbs.

"Have I ever told you how fucking beautiful you are?" he asks fiercely.

For what feels like the millionth time, my cheeks heat up.

"Yes," I whisper "always."

He kisses down my neck to the v of my cleavage.

I lift my upper body up, so that he can zip down my dress. Unlike earlier this evening, he is slow in his movements; admiring my underwear clad body.

I smile, tugging at his t-shirt, bringing it over his head.

He pulls it off, while I unbuckle his belt, pushing his pants down with my feet.

Soon, the only things that separate us are the thin cotton of his boxers and the lace of my bra and ruined panties.

I breathe heavily as he licks and bites softly at my stomach. My hands thread through his bronze hair; pushing him down to the place where I need him most.

He hooks his fingers into my panties, yanking them off.

Then he touches me.

"Jesus Christ Bella, you are so wet."

I moan loudly as he traces my clit with two of his fingers, before curling them inside me.

"Edward…" I pant.

"Scream for me baby, we're the only ones here."

Then he presses his mouth to my clit, pounding in his two fingers, meeting my g-spot.

I scream unashamed; between the soft sucks, and long licks using the flat of tongue, on top of his spectacular fingers – well I really don't stand a chance.

"Harder. Faster." I manage to choke out.

He groans at my words; making me shiver.

He buries his fingers impossibly deeper; I don't even need the projection on the wall; Edward makes me see stars.

A fine sheen of sweat covers my body, as I scream in ecstasy. It is easily the greatest orgasm of my life.

As I come down from my high, Edward lays kisses over my thighs, massaging down my legs delicately.

"You are incredible."

I leave out a breathy laugh; my legs feel like jelly. Unable to move, I murmur; "Come here."

He snickers at my inability to… well… to do anything, and moves up so he can kiss me.

Edward tucks my sweaty hair behind my ears "you make me so happy".

I open my eyes; he looks completely sincere, and my heart races.

"You make me so happy too."

He kisses me passionately, and I can feel his cock pressing against me, weeping.

With effort, I twist us and move down his body.

"Bella, sweetheart, you're tired," he half-heartedly complains.

I swipe my thumb over the tip of his dick, licking my other hand and move both over him in slow motions, massaging him, much like he did with my legs.

"B-Bella" Edward sighs, balling the comforter with his hands.

Seeing the pre-cum, I bend low and for the second time tonight – I take him into my mouth.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuuuck," Edward yells.

I scrape my teeth lightly against his skin and suckle at his cock, loving the feeling of him.

"Baby, baby, baby I am not going to last long… Jesus."

I suck with all my might, moving down so he is hitting the back of my throat.

"I'm coming angel!" Edward shouts, tugging my hair.

I swallow as he comes in glorious waves; his eyes closed, and back arched. If he thought I was beautiful, he has clearly never looked in a mirror.

I collapse next to him, snuggling into the side of his body. He embraces me, bringing me closer so that every line of our body is meeting.

"I don't even think I want to know why you are so good at that," Edward says after a moment; still sounding a little dazed.

I rub my head against his chest; I adore how his skin feels against mine. "Alice makes me read A LOT of Cosmo."

He cracks an eye open, "really?"

"Uh huh," I reply absentmindedly. I draw hearts against his skin – feeling thirteen all over again.

"No more need for that."

"Oh?"

"Nope – you know the saying. 'Practice makes perfect."

I laugh hysterically and slap his chest, "you are such a perv!"

He grins, "your perv."

"My perv," I copy.

He then leans over me and shows me how much of a perv he really is…

…

 **2 WEEKS LATER**

I flick through the book, loving the smell of the pages. _Where is it… where is it… Ah ha!_

Finally reaching my favourite chapter, I sit down comfortably behind the large oak desk. The page has been dog-eared so many times, that the corner of the page is worn and old.

One of the many reasons why I adore working in this bookstore is the serenity and quiet it offers. It is almost therapeutic. In New York, bookshops such as this are a rarity. The high street is largely an outlet of luxury retail – Gucci and Tiffany, Prada and Chanel.

If the odd person did happen to want a book, they end up going to a large chain of bookstores like Barnes and Noble. But, nobody can deny the charm and character that exudes from 'Twilight'.

Sat in Brooklyn, the store is owned by a sweet couple: Mr and Mrs Cope, and according to them, 'Twilight' had been in the family for over two decades. As a result, 'Twilight' has earned a honourable reputation amongst the most loyal of customers.

I was beyond happy when a job space opened here last year. I was sitting in my favourite spot- on a large velvet armchair, which is settled in the corner of the room, behind the sci-fi section. Mrs Cope, recognising me from previous encounters approached me with a job offer – and of course, I couldn't refuse. It paid well, and I got to do my favourite thing… read.

With me being a literature student, Alice can't get her head around why I would want to spend more time with books. But the answer is easy. Books are my happy place. As cliché as it sounds, I love how they can transport me into a completely different reality, to a world in which I could immerse myself in the character's perspective. Especially having such an unstable childhood, what with my parents' divorce, Renée's spontaneous schemes, and then my big move to Forks at seventeen. Books have been my one and only constant. An escape.

I am surprised when the bell rings, an hour later. Rush time ended nearly two or three hours ago, and I am leaving sometime soon. I look over the door, and my bewilderment deepens.

Typically, my customers consist of mothers led reluctantly by their curious children or elderly men and women. The tall, handsome man who steps over the threshold definitely does not fit those criteria.

He has an angular jaw line, and long blonde hair, which is in a man bun so that he appears almost surfer-like. As his ice blue eyes meet mine, a charming grin teases his lips.

I quickly divert my eyes, returning to the magical words on the page. It is beyond me how some people can have such an incredible imagination. There has been many times, where I have just sat at my desk, and stared at a blank Word document, willing for my mind to conjure _something._ Yet, I always come up empty handed.

Perhaps that's why, (despite a larger part of me wanting to be a journalist) the prospect of becoming an editor is still so appealing – while I am not the best creative writer in the world, I love to read the work of others.

I spend the next five minutes engrossed. It is almost like diving back into my past; reminiscing the first time, I ever read the book.

"Excuse me? Miss?"

My head shoots up, surprised to find my one and only customer now in front of me.

"Oh, sorry."

I take the book off him, glancing at the cover– American Psycho. Ugh.

I hold back my distaste, putting a polite smile on. No one can deny that Bret Easton Ellis is a talented author, but (personally) I find the book massively overrated – mind you, I have always been a romance/ fantasy kind of girl.

"That will be seven dollars, please."

He slides over the cash, swapping it for the book and receipt.

"Harry Potter?"

I peek back up at him. While he is certainly attractive, I can't help but wish Edward was the one that standing in front of me. I inwardly smile, remembering the adoring kiss he had pressed to my lips when he had left my bed that morning; whispering beautiful promises about seeing me later.

The guy coughs, bringing me out of my daydreams.

"Oh… um – yeah. Sorry… again, kind of got distracted." I blush. God, this day has been entirely too long.

He gives me another grin, and I itch to roll my eyes. He probably thinks I am nervous; too stunned by his appearance. Hah.

"You're reading Harry Potter? Isn't that a kids book?"

His cocky smile and comment makes me flush with anger, I cross arms over the book, bringing it to my chest protectively. No one will insult Potter in front of me.

"First – it's the Deathly Hallows. Which I think qualifies as more as young adult fiction, than it does child's fiction. And second – Harry Potter is the most successful series in the world today."

The asshole leans against the desk lazily, "actually I'll think you find that 50 Shades of Grey is the most successful book in the world today… which is much more my type."

I scrunch my nose in disgust. What a sleezeball! I have heard a lot bad chat up lines, but this is definitely the creepiest… and the weirdest. How does that constitute as attractive? As I open, my mouth to retort (or more likely, curse him out) the bell rings again.

Thankful for the interruption, my heart leaps when I see Edward, standing in the doorway with a brown bag in his hand. His eyes travel between the stranger and I, but upon seeing the disgruntled look on my face, his gorgeous features harden.

He looks coldly at the blonde man, before walking straight to me. Circling the desk, he presses a passionate kiss to my lips.

I squeak at Edward's blatant actions, yet I can't help but fist his light grey shirt between my hands in an attempt to bring him closer. It is as if everything disappears. All I can taste is his sweet lips caressing mine as his warm calloused hands trace shapes on the skin of my lower back.

I almost laugh when I feel a satisfied smile curl Edward's mouth. He nudges my nose with his, in an adorable gesture.

"Hi baby"

"Hey."

Edward snakes an arm possessively around my waist, facing the man. I look from Edward's stony expression to Mr Douche-Face. Rather than looking sheepish, scared or intimidated; he looks simply amused by the situation. Nevertheless, for a brief moment, I can almost _see_ the challenge flash in his icy eyes.

"Who's this, love?" Edward asks in a low voice.

"Uh-"

"A paying customer." The guy interjects, dropping the receipt on the table.

The asshole returns his gaze to me. I squirm under his hungry look, pressing myself to my boyfriend. I totally take back my previous analysis of him. The guy is definitely not attractive… in any form.

"It was wonderful to meet you _Bella."_

I don't bother replying. As I feel Edward's hand tighten on my hip, I place a firm hand on his chest as a way to assure him.

I give the man a strained smile, "Thank you for shopping with us today."

He saunters out of the store leaving Edward and I behind, the atmosphere bordering tense.

"I didn't like him." Edward states, frostily.

I rub his chest, comfortingly "Me neither. But don't worry, I doubt he'll come again anytime soon… that was quite a show back there."

His lips upturn into a sheepish smile; "I just didn't like the way he was looking at you. It took everything in me, not to fucking strangle him. You're mine."

I laugh at him, reaching on my tiptoes to kiss him again.

"Yeah well, I think you got that across."

He doesn't smile, "Oh, I don't think so."

I furrow my eyebrows confused.

Edward reaches behind me picking up the receipt that the customer had left behind.

There written across the page, is a number.

 _Call me, when you get sick of pretty boy,_

 _-James_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Disclaimer- all characters sadly belongs to the one and only Stephanie Meyer!**_

 _ **Hello! I know! I have actually updated! And it is extra long today – a thank you for all the amazing reviews that you guys have given me. Thank you so much!**_

 _ **This chapter has been through the wringer – I had made this huge plan up, but as I was writing the characters' literally had a mind of their own! So, I have to confess – a lot of this is just fluff. Wonderful, glorious fluff. And I advise you – enjoy it, because the next chapter is going to be a very bumpy ride! So please review – reviews get me writing!**_

 _ **Oh, and if anyone like me, enjoys listening to music when reading – I listened to 'Halo' for this particular chapter**_ __ _ **.**_

 _ **Love you all, and I hope you enjoy xo**_

 _ **8.**_

 _ **BPOV**_

"Ugh…"

The dry heaves and sound of moans jerk me from my sleep. I stretch on the bed, searching for the warm body that has inhabited it these last few weeks. Edward and I have been dating for a month now, and I can safely say – it has been the most perfect month of my life. Edward is the sweetest and kindest man I have ever met.

After our night in the photography studio, we have been on a number of equally amazing dates. Expensive restaurants in Times Square... long walks around Central Park... nights in at the apartment... dancing at Eclipse. We revel in our time together, and while he hasn't drifted further into the topic of his family, I have continued to learn other things about him.

He always sleeps on the right side of the bed, and is a very still sleeper. He is convinced that he isn't a coddler, but that was slowly shown to be false as I often find him wrapped around me in the mornings. Head between my breasts, right arm secure around my waist.

His mother Elizabeth was a redhead, and loved playing piano. She was the force that made Edward want to play, and the inspiration behind his very first composition.

Edward has an affinity for cars. Growing up, he used to go to lots of car shows, seeing the best machinery in the world. It is his ambition, to own an Aston Martin.

His guilty pleasure is Hershey's Kisses. He admitted with bright cheeks, that my eyes (which were apparently the exact shade of his favourite chocolate) were one of the first things that drew him to me.

At his time in public school, Edward learnt a range of skills. Fencing. Diving. New languages. Ballroom dancing, (something that he particularly hated). Sign language. According to him – he loved learning. It distracted him from other things going on his life: most significantly, the death of his mother.

He is extremely organised and loves planning yet he is also the messiest person on the planet. That is clear from the state of his office, whenever I visit between my lectures. When I asked why he always kept his office in such disarray he simply replied (albeit, extremely grudgingly), that someone he knew was such a perfectionist, choosing to be so orderly and tidy, that this is his form of rebellion. The explanation was distant and fragmented. However, the expression on his face became closed off, indicating that he did not want to speak any further on the subject.

However, despite these discoveries, Edward and I have not slept together. We have done lots of other stuff but we have never gotten to the actual deed. We agreed on the night at the photography studio, that while we both craved one another, we are not going to rush into it. Our first kiss, although an incredible moment, had been profoundly quick, and our first time will not be the same.

Yet, now after weeks of growing closer and closer, I can feel my will slowly but surely dissolving… My body aches for Edward. It sounds cliché and extremely corny to say, but every time he nears, there is a colony of butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Every time he touches me, goose bumps rise on my skin, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

We have this electricity, and a voice at the back of my head is insistent that this feeling will never go away. Edward makes me feel completely alive, and I am beginning to feel the urge to fully and wholly connect with him – no strings attached. But how, can you be with someone who still struggles to completely open up to you?

Feeling nothing but cold bed sheets, I rub my eyes looking down at the untouched side of the bed. As my sleep-addled brain finally catches up with reality, I realise it is one of those rare nights where Edward won't be staying the night. Being the boss does have its benefits; Edward hardly ever has extremely late shifts. However there is the odd night where he has to lock up, this night being one of them.

"Ughhhh…"

I sit up straighter, squinting at the crack of light, visible beneath the door. Throwing the covers off my pyjama-clad body, I follow the wounded moans. If Edward isn't here, there is only one other person those moans can belong to…

"Ali?"

I open the bathroom door gingerly, to find Alice; who somehow manages to look incredibly glamorous in her Victoria Secret silk pyjamas, despite the fact she is kneeling next to the toilet. Her black hair sticks to her head with sweat and her skin is pale white.

"God Al! What's the matter?"

I walk over to her, placing a hand to her forehead. No temperature. Just sweat.

"I must've ate something bad" she moans, swiping the back of her hand across her mouth, "it'll pass."

"How long have you been sick?" I wonder, concerned.

She looks up at me, a shadow crossing over her face; "A week now, maybe two? It comes and goes."

"You've been sick for a week?" I question. How haven't I noticed?

Alice smiles, although it looks more like a grimace, "Well we have been a little busy lately…"

I sit next to her, stung. My mind goes over the last few weeks, and I realise– we _have_ been busy. When I wasn't in lectures or work, and when she wasn't at College, we were with our boyfriends. Going on dates, Edward constantly staying at our apartment as Alice slept at Jasper's flat. Really, we haven't had a day to ourselves in _weeks._

"Fuck," I shake my head in disbelief.

She places a comforting hand on my thigh, "Don't worry B. I get it. I only really thought about it a few days ago. Maybe every once in while, we could veto the guys' company and just… y'know, hang out? Binge watch The Vampire Diaries."

I roll my eyes jokingly, at the name of our favourite television show.

"I'm so sorry."

"Hey, it was me as well! We are two women in love… what do you expect?"

My cheeks warm at the word _love,_ and my stomach does an uncomfortable somersault. Suddenly I feel like crouching beside the toilet with Alice.

"I am not in love Alice, it has only been a month."

Alice shrugs indifferently, her nausea seemingly forgotten, "so? I have only known Jazz for a month. Are you telling me that you don't think we are in love?"

I shake my head furiously. Anyone with eyes can see how in love Alice and Jasper are. He looks at her as if she has hung the moon, and she treats him as though he is her oxygen.

"No, of course not!"

"Then why can't you and Edward be?"

"B-because!" I throw my hands in the air, "Edward and I are a totally different couple! There are just too many secrets between us… Until he can tell me everything, then how can we truly be in love? It's not like you and Jasper are hiding anything from each other!"

Alice squirms under my gaze, probably from the mere suggestion of keeping something from Jasper.

"It's not that Bella. You have always been so logical and sensible. And love… it's fucking scary! I'm not going to lie. You may not see it, but the way you and Edward are around each other, its… _magnetic._ When you move, he moves. When he moves, you move. If it wasn't so adorable, it would be freaking creepy!"

I stare at her for a moment, speechless. Is it really _that_ obvious?

"Look," Alice continues, "your brain just needs to catch up with what your body clearly knows already. That's cool. Have you slept together yet?"

I shake my head and stare at my feet "I want to. Like every time we get to second base, it takes every shred of my will to pull away from him. But it's like what I said before… he hasn't shared everything with me yet."

"Bells, listen to me. I know Edward hasn't given you the down low about his family yet, but have you ever thought about what he _has_ told you?"

I look at her confused, "what do you mean?"

"Well… who's his best friend?"

"Emmett."

"Where did he grow up?"

"New York."

"Most serious relationship he has ever had?"

"Besides this one? He was with his high school girlfriend Angela for a year."

"Does he shower morning or night?"

"Alice… what are you getting at?"

"Just answer Bella."

I huff, "Morning, without fail."

"Most annoying habit?"

"When he's frustrated, he always runs his hands through his hair, making it even messier than it usually is… but it is also kind of sexy, so…"

"What's his favourite childhood memory?"

"The first time he ever played the piano for his mother." I smile sadly, "He said that she cried for an hour, and asked him to record it – even though it was really shitty – so she could listen to it before she went to bed."

"Food he can't stand?"

"He hates fish. All kinds of fish – salmon, cod, prawns… he said it's because he used to eat it all the time when he was younger, and he developed a kind of aversion to it."

"Favourite song?"

My cheeks flushes with colour, "Mr Brightside."

Alice raises an eyebrow "well there's definitely a story to that."

"Um, yeah, well – that was the song that was playing in the background when he first went dow-"

"Okaaay then!" Alice laughs, "Y'know for a moment then, I thought it was going to be something really romantic. Like the song that played in the background to your first kiss."

This time I am the one who laughs, "No. _That_ was 'Despacito'. No way would Edward ever admit to liking Justin Bieber."

Alice looks at me, unamused "if your boyfriend has an issue with the Biebs, then he can take that up with me."

I roll my eyes "You sound like such a fangirl right now."

"Yes. And a proud and strong one, at that! While I cannot vouch for his earlier hits, no one can argue that his latest ones have been genius."

Upon seeing the fierce look on her face, I don't dare argue, "was there a point to your twenty questions?"

She manages to shake herself from her Justin trance and stares at me pointedly, "my point is… you've dated for a month and look at how much you know! And it may not all be about his past, but you know his present. All of it may come across as small and inconsequential, but all of it adds up to the man he is today, and isn't that the most important thing? You aren't falling for the man of the past, or even the man of the future. It's the guy who is currently working at a bar, who is probably dying to be here at this very moment."

I gaze at her, digesting her words.

Fuck… she is right.

Edward _has_ opened up to me. Perhaps not on the topics that I want him to, but I know the most significant stuff like his favourite toothpaste brand, and comfort food. What his face looks like when he is tired; how his eyes sparkle when he is happy and what his voice sounds like when he is frustrated. How he looks when he gets up in the morning, and the pattern of his breathes when he sleeps. All his guilty pleasures, celebrity crushes growing up, favourite sports. The first composition he ever played and the last he ever played for his mother. All these little yet wonderful details that add up to this fantastic man... the one I am undeniably falling head over heels for.

"Shit. Alice you are a genius!" I squeal, incredulously. In the light of my epiphany, I throw myself into Alice's lap, hugging her tightly.

She giggles at the overjoyed display I am showing, grasping at me with equal strength.

I don't know how long we just sit there, giggling on the bathroom floor in the early hours of a Thursday morning. However, it feels spectacular just to share a moment of pure happiness with my best friend.

I pull away from her grinning, "Let's do something. Just us two, yeah?"

She smiles, "yes! I have some… stuffto do tomorrow, but is Friday okay?"

"Friday is good… are you okay though? What stuff is going on? Shouldn't you be waiting till you feel better?"

Alice gives me a small smile, "I have been avoiding it for a while now, but it shouldn't take too long… hopefully."

"Well, just call me if you need help."

She lays her head on my shoulder sighing, "I am counting on that."

…

"Okay, thanks guys! Just look over chapter twenty two for our next lecture, picking up the key themes and patterns."

I slide my books into my rucksack, throwing it over my shoulder. I wonder what will be on the agenda tonight. That TV binge night isn't an option since Alice is busy today. With what, I still don't know. She had been up early this morning, despite having gone to bed approaching two thirty, looking extremely nervous and a little sick. But before I could insist that she should stay home, she was out of the door.

It is so out of character of her to be quiet and mysterious, and it is sort of freaking me out. I should have noticed a lot sooner.

I haven't heard much from Edward either. He had sent me a text around two o'clock this morning, to say that he had gotten home safe and that he missed me. He always knows exactly what to say.

His text and the revelations Alice had enlightened to me last night made me twist and turn. I don't know what to make of it all. I stand by my previous thoughts – Edward is hiding something. Instead of feeling frustrated about it, I now feel… content. I do know Edward. Well, at least who he is today. Whatever happened in his past, I am willing to wait for. Alice is right – I do not need to know his childhood to truly fall in love with him. I am doing that all by myself.

"Miss Swan?"

I fall from my inner musings by my lecturer, Professor Banner or 'Alan'. Alan is the Head of English at NYU and a massive inspiration to all of us aspiring writers, having released several well-known fictional novels and poetry anthropologies. Although he is at the relatively young age of forty-two, Professor Banner is one of the most respected members at NYU.

So, when he calls my attention, I am of course – terrified. Has he noticed that I'm a little distracted lately? Was my most recent essay below par?

"Yes Sir?"

He smiles at me kindly, making me relax slightly.

"Bella, how many times have I asked you to call me Alan?"

I smile coyly, "I think this is the fiftieth time Si – Alan."

He chuckles, "well, Bella I have called you over because the board and I have come to a decision."

I shuffle my feet, nervously, "oh?"

"Yes. Based on your insightful views, and extra-ordinary marks; we would very much like for you to deliver the speech at the Annual Humanities Ball, next Saturday."

I stop, completely blown away for a moment. Me? Giving the speech?

The Humanities Ball is a tradition at the College, inviting all students from humanity-based subjects – English, history, philosophy, modern languages etc. At the end of the banquet, there is a collection of speeches – one from the Head of Humanities, the Head of the College itself, a guest speaker (last year it was the Mayor of New York) and lastly, a third year student – typically one of the brightest students of the year.

And they think _I_ fit this criterion? I mean, I work my ass off and I'm extremely passionate for my subject but never in a million years, did I think that I would be recognised in such a prestigious manner.

"I would be honoured."

His face lights up, he shakes my hand delightedly – "That is wonderful news Bella! Of course, you may bring a plus one… your parents perhaps? Or a partner?"

I look at him thoughtfully, "I'll ask."

"Fantastic. Just let me know tomorrow, so that I can place them on the guest list."

I nod, shaking his hand again before leaving – still in a daze.

There is no doubt in my mind that Renée and Charlie will be beyond thrilled with the news. But I also know my parents. Renée would be too fidgety at a ball; she would get bored within an hour, and find the whole thing dull – it just wasn't her scene. Put her into a loud, bustling nightclub any day of the week and she would fit right in.

Then there is Charlie. To put it sweetly – my father hates leaving Forks. He is a home bird at heart and it would take a serious incident for him to leave the small town.

Even when I was living in Phoenix, I was the one who had to travel to see him. When I was younger, my mother used to make up some wild stories about it. She would tell me, that he couldn't leave Forks because he was their sole protector – a man who defended innocent folk from monsters – vampires and werewolves. Other times she said that if he even tried to pass the boundary of Forks, something terrible would happen. I think she got that idea from that one time we watched 'Once Upon a Time'. As I got older however, it became clear, that Charlie simply felt comfortable in Forks. It's his home – a place he has always known.

Perhaps that's why my mother was so desperate to leave, and later why I was happy to move away. Forks, is one of those towns that came with a life plan. Everyone grows up together then you meet your future wife or husband in high school. Get a shitty job at the local Diner, grocery store, or most ambitiously –Fork's High School or police force. Have kids, and live in one of the identical red brick houses with a white picket fence; living the exact life your parents carried out.

It is lineal, and growing up with ambitions and goals, it is a place that I avoid spectacularly.

As the cold winter air whips my hair around, I bring my coat tighter around me. Perhaps I can ask Edward. I doubt that he would very much enjoy a ball, but he would make it significantly less boring. In fact – I love the idea of him coming to support me. In one of the most important milestones of my College career.

I can feel a wide smile stretch across my face as I wander down the street, yes – I will ask Edward.

In my deep happiness, I become totally oblivious to the sudden pressure around my waist as I am yanked sideways into an alley.

Gasping, I find myself held against a brick wall – facing the object of my thoughts.

"Fucking hell Edward! I thought I was going to get mugged!"

I half-heartedly attempt to push against his strong chest, but his arms are like an iron cage.

He chuckles slightly, pressing into me – so close, that he can probably feel my pounding heart.

He twists a strand of my hair that has come loose from my ponytail, around his finger.

"Sorry baby, I was waiting for you outside your lecture but you seemed totally in your own world. I called you at least three times… I thought you were mad at me."

I giggle, rising on my toes to rub my cold nose against his "it's been a crazy day."

Edward leans in, giving me a sweet kiss. His lips taste of coffee and cinnamon, and something that is completely Edward. I sigh up against his lips, leaving my mouth open to him.

He slips his tongue in, stroking it against mine in a soft dance, entwining them together. I pull away slightly, nibbling at his lips. He growls, sending delicious vibrations into my skin. My body sings for him, and while the weather is frosty; I am desperately warm.

"I missed you," He murmurs.

I smile, still kissing him, "Me too."

He pulls away, leaning his forehead against mine. I moan at the loss of his lips – causing him to snicker at my antics.

"So I was thinking…"

I peck up and down at his chin, and the parts of his neck that are not covered by the thick grey wool of his scarf.

"Sweetheart, you are making this a little difficult to get out," he groans, but doesn't move away from my advances.

I smile evilly, "can it wait?" I have been without his lips for _hours,_ goddamn it!

He cups my chin, tipping my head backwards to plant another one of his amazing kisses on me. Will I ever get sick of his kisses?

His tongue languidly traces my lips, and his teeth tease my tongue – alternating between soft bites to cute nibbles.

He then pushes me up, dragging my body up the wall and pushing his thigh between my two legs so that I am virtually sitting on it. Now at his height, he starts licking at the sensitive spot behind my ear, sucking the lobe of my ear lightly.

"You going to listen to me now?"

His sucking grows more powerful, causing my head to fall back, hitting the wall with a soft thud.

"If I say yes then will you continue that?" I ask – between heavy breaths.

He laughs, kissing my ear "Yes."

"Then hell yeah, I'm listening."

He looks at me directly in the eyes, his emerald ones serious. Still shaky from the phenomenal ear attention, I attempt to copy him.

"Do you… I mean _would_ you, um… like to stay with me at my apartment tonight?"

I just watch him. How many times today have I been rendered speechless? Three times? Have I swallowed my tongue?

While this small part of my consciousness questions my capability of speech, the larger portion is jumping up and down in exhilaration and triumph.

This is it! He finally trusts me. He wants to give himself to me, as wholly as I want to give myself to him.

I don't know how large my smile is – but it totally obliterates the wonder and happiness I felt just minutes ago, when I was given the biggest opportunity in my time at NYU.

Edward – my Edward wants to share more of himself with me, Bella Swan.

He chuckles at what might be the stupidest expression on my face.

"I'll take that beautiful smile as a yes?"

I pounce on him, taking him by surprise and push him across the alley so that he is the one trapped against a wall.

He releases a shocked laugh, but it becomes muffled by the wet kiss I press to his lips.

"Definitely yes."

I lick down his throat, biting down every now and again. He laughingly groans.

"If I had known this is the reaction I would get, I would have invited you over ages ago." Edward teases, although it came out more as a moan.

"Don't push it Mason."

We don't talk too much after that.

…

After we had realised that we were making out (to the point of where it was bordering second base) in a public area, we both agreed that he would pick me up from my apartment at seven, and we'd have a takeaway at his apartment.

So, at 6:45, I am practically bouncing around my room; throwing in an overnight bag random bits of clothing.

It looks like Alice hadn't been back to the apartment since this morning, and when I try to call her with the news of my whereabouts this evening, she doesn't pick up.

Normally this would worry me – Alice is always tapping away on her flashy iPhone, whether she is searching for the latest fashion trends or stalking people on Instagram.

But I reason that was she is most probably with Jasper, doing who knows what. They are a kinky pair.

The doorbell rings, and I swear – I nearly fly to the door to answer.

Edward stands there, smiling almost nervously. It's rare to see such a smile on his face, but he looks beyond adorable with it on. He wears the same outfit he wore this morning – a dark sweater under a black coat, jeans, broken up by a light grey, woollen scarf. He looks amazing, but then again, he always does.

I grin at him, immediately pulling him in to an embrace.

His strong arms encircle me, and I can feel his breath on my hair, as he tucks his face into the crook of my neck.

"Hello gorgeous."

"Hey. You are early."

"I missed you."

I laugh, "I saw you two hours ago."

He shrugs, "Can't I miss my beautiful girlfriend?"

I blush, not saying anything.

"You ready to go?"

I nod, turning to grab my bag. He instantly takes it from me, and grabs my other hand.

Once I finish locking up, we walk down to his car.

We chat in between, asking one another about menial things – have we been up to anything since we parted mere hours ago, what we are looking forward to tonight, what we wanted to eat from the Chinese.

I don't bring up my ball, choosing to ask him after dinner. I am almost nervous about asking him. It's such a big deal for me, and although I know he would love to support me, my stomach does an uneasy flip.

When we reach his apartment – I am stunned.

I should've known it would be nice. I mean – he owns the most successful bar in New York, he owns a Fat Boy S, our first date was at a world known music festival for Christ's sake.

Nevertheless, nothing prepares me for the building he lives in.

Tall and grand; the floors are all marble and the walls are made from glass. Golden chandeliers are hanging from the ceiling. It distinctly reminds me of Rosalie's apartment. My stomach does another uncomfortable twist at the thought.

I would never place Edward in a place like this, and the stiff way in which he walks shows that he doesn't even feel totally comfortable either.

Maybe this is why he is always at my apartment rather than asking me to spend time at his. Although my apartment is smaller to this, it is extremely homey and cosy; it oozes comfort.

He draws circles on the back of my hand, as we head to the lift. It doesn't escape my notice that he presses the top button – the penthouse… of course.

I give him a side-glance, but he just stares ahead.

The silence is thick when we finally reach his floor. He takes out a posh looking key card. Again I don't say anything. He knows what I am thinking. He knows that there must be a hundred questions floating through my mind right now.

But he does nothing. He holds the door open for me, and when I step through, it just exudes luxury.

To my right he throws his keys into a side table. Opposite that there is a door, most likely a walking closet or something ridiculous like that.

The hallway immediately opens up into a beyond beautiful living room. All the walls are made from glass, allowing us to look at the amazing skyline, the sky a perfect peachy pink, fading into a soft orange. The windows go out to a large, private balcony where a table, chairs and umbrella conveniently sit.

The glow of the sunset casts shadows across the room; the large grey corner sofa that is set at the far left of the room in front of a massive – and by massive, I mean HUGE TV and speaker set. There are black leather and grey chairs dotted around the space. Towards the centre there is a magnificent, black grand piano; near the windows, giving whoever plays it a wonderful view of New York. At the far right, big, thick columns noticeably hold up the high ceilings; and there is a gorgeous dining space. Guitars line the walls.

I tug off my Converses before moving further into the room, already feeling the heating underneath the dark wooden floorboards.

"So here's the living, slash dining area" Edward says awkwardly "I don't really use the dining table that much, but Es – well, some people were quite insistent on it."

He takes my hand, leading me to the right, where there is a doorway. He flicks the spotlights on as we walk; and I can't help but feel how cold the lights are, in comparison to the warm glow my lamps offer back at my apartment.

He leads me into the kitchen, and for the first time I can actually see myself spending time here. It is state of the art; the oven, microwave, hob, fridge, coffeemaker, blender – it is all top quality, in a tasteful stainless steel. A large marble breakfast bar, with leather stools stood in the middle, under three industrial, trendy lights. There is storage space covering the walls; appearing to be marble.

"Wow," I breathe, sweeping my hand reverently over the work surfaces.

Edward chuckles, "I knew you'd like this place. Do you want to see the rest of the place, or would you prefer to drool over my oven" he teases.

"It's just so pretty."

He lets out a full blown belly laugh at that, pulling on my hand, "c'mon my little Julia Childs."

I smack him lightly on the chest at the nickname, but follow him.

We leave the kitchen, walking back through the dining/living area towards another doorway. This leads to a long hallway with several large, oak doors.

"Bathroom," he says pointing to our right.

"Guest room," he gestures to the left.

"Wet room," he motions back to the right.

Then we come to the last door, at the bottom of the hall.

"My room" he whispers.

He doesn't go to open it, he just watches me; waiting for me.

I cautiously open the door, and gasp at the sight.

The rest of the apartment could have passed for any rich bachelor, but this room. It is so Edward in every sense of the word.

He has a four-poster, king size bed; that I could literally see us rolling on, covered by rich golden sheets.

While the eastern wall is again made from glass with a view to die for, the entire south wall is covered top to bottom with shelves; filled with movies, books and CDs. At closer inspection, they are also alphabetically placed – reaffirming my previous observation of how organised he is.

There are black and white photographs on the west wall. I look up at Edward, silently asking if I am able to look. While he is making the effort into sharing a piece of himself with me, I don't want to over step the mark and scare him off.

The photographs are beautiful. Some look to be professionally done – probably by Kate. They are pictures of him and Garrett – messing about on guitars, mid laugh.

There is a more amateur picture of him and Emmett, holding up their beers to the camera, a crooked grin on Edward's face. He looks so much younger in that picture, perhaps nineteen or twenty.

I smile, looking at the next photo. In this one Edward is much younger again. He appears to be ten, his face filled with adoration as he sits next to a beautiful woman who tinkers away at a piano.

She has a soft smile on her face, as she gazes down at her hands that dance along the ivory keys. The black and white photo obscure the colour of her hair, but the sharp angles of her face, and the slight crookedness of her smile totally tell me that she is-

"My mother" Edward says quietly.

I gaze up at him, placing a comforting hand on his chest "she was stunning."

He smiles "she was," then he looks at me "she would have loved you."

I feel myself turn pink at the comment, "I would have loved to have met her."

I look back at the photographs, and the last picture catches my eye.

It's… me.

I remember him snapping it on one of our lazy mornings in bed.

" _Let me take a picture of you."_

" _Noooo" I squealed, hiding my face under a pillow._

" _Aw, don't do that! I can't see your pretty face."_

 _I started to giggle as he began to tickle me behind the knee. Curse him knowing my secret tickle spot!_

" _Why do you want a picture of me?" I moaned, as he threw the pillow to the other side of the room._

" _Because you are beautiful. The most beautiful thing in this world, and you deserve to be photographed."_

 _My heart swelled and my cheeks flushed at his sincere compliment. Fuck, I definitely couldn't refuse him after that!_

" _Even if I have bed head and no make up?"_

 _He straddles my body, cupping my face between his hands "especially if you have bed head and no make up."_

 _As I start laughing at the absurdness of his statement, the camera clicks._

" _I wasn't ready!" I moan, reaching for his phone._

" _It's perfect."_

And here it is. Taken from above me, there is a white sheet tight around my upper body, effectively hiding my tits but leaving nothing to the imagination as my collarbones and shoulders are left bare.

My dark hair is spread out around my face, almost like a halo against the white pillows, and my head is tossed back laughter. My entire face is lit up, dimples visible, eyes closed, eyelashes casting shadows across my face.

I touch the photograph with my fingertips; I had never ever seen myself so happy in all my life.

"I have such bad bed hair," I say jokingly.

Edward places his hands on my waist, turning me so that I face him – "You are absolutely perfect."

He presses one of those kisses on me. The kiss that makes my blood sings and heart race.

I weave my fingers through his bronze hair; loving the texture.

"I wrote you a song," he says as I place frantic kisses on his face.

"What?"

"I wrote you a, um composition… would you like to hear it?"

Between his news and the kisses I nod dazed.

He takes me out of the bathroom, towards the baby grand piano that sits in the living room.

He sits on the stool, moving over so I can sit next to him. My heart flutters as he rakes a hand through his hair; he looks terrified. This was the first time he was playing for me, after all.

I lean my head into the crook of his neck, waiting for his song, and he sighs contently at the contact.

Then he plays.

He moves his hands with such… grace, and fluidity. They fly up and down, weaving together a song that was not just about _me_ but _us._

There are the strong, passionate notes that represent our beginning – the fiery kiss in the club that left us both craving more. Then the softer, more seductive notes that sound to our meeting at Rosalie's party... Then there are the harmonious, beautiful notes of us coming together – finally becoming a couple.

I watch him as he closes his eyes, the music flowing through him into the piano, and in that moment I know that I am unconditionally and irrevocably falling for this man.

When he stops, there are tears trailing down my cheeks. I feel so much for him. The music, it was just proof of how perfect we are together.

I throw a leg over his, straddling him and kiss him senseless to which he responds in equal fever.

"It was… it was…"

"Beautiful?" Edward asks, hopefully.

I shake my head. His whole body slumps and a look of rejection mar his features.

I tip his chin back, staring into those eyes – those amazing, emerald eyes, "it was _beguiling_."

He beams, releasing a radiant laugh.

I love him.


	9. Chapter 9

_**On a scale from one to ten, how shocked are you that I have updated? Pretty quick, right? I am starting back at Uni soon, so I thought it would be a good idea to get as many chapters out as I can before I go back! So… Ta da!**_

 _ **Thank you all so so soooo much for the kind reviews, I loved your reaction to the last chapter. I have a feeling that this one is going to have a very different response. I am calling this the fall-out chapter. The next few chapters are going to offer a few obstacles for Bella and Edward, but every couple need obstacles, right?**_

 _ **I hope you all enjoy, and please, please, pleeeeease review! The playlist for this chapter was 'Dusk till Dawn', 'Say Something' and 'Run' by Leona Lewis. I think you will all pick up on which part the sad songs are based on…**_

 _ **Love you all xo**_

 _ **9.**_

 _ **BPOV**_

"You are doing that on purpose now!" I laugh, skilfully dodging the chopsticks.

Edward looks at me in mock offence, "of course I'm not! I am just a guy trying to feed his girlfriend some delicious Chinese food. Now, open wide."

"That's what he said," I mutter.

He gives me a cheeky grin, "Humour me Bella."

I roll my eyes and open my mouth. And just like the last three times Edward has attempted to feed me, he hits me squarely in the jaw, effectively missing my mouth and leaving food on my skin.

"Edward!"

He leans forward kissing the spot that is currently marked with Chinese food, and gives it a small lick.

I squeal, pushing him away. "If you are trying to be sexy, you are failing."

He looks at me affronted, "I was trying to be romantic, you know… like 'Lady and the Tramp."

I giggle, "They are dogs and they didn't cause as much mess as you have."

"You like my mess."

"You sound like such a child right now."

He gives me a mischievous look, and puts the food down. Instantly recognising the look, I slide my body up the sofa in the useless effort to escape. He starts crawling after me; like a lion stalking a lamb.

"Edward…" I warn, my back meeting the edge of the sofa "no!"

His hands immediately go to my knees and his fingers tickle incessantly, making me squirm with laughter. Tears roll down my face as I try to slap his hands away, "p-please! Uncle!"

"Say I am not a kid," he says through his laughs.

"B-but you are t-t-tickling meeee!"

"Say it baby, or I will have to resort to other measures…"

To say I am beyond interested about these 'other measures' is an understatement, but I am going to pee myself if I keep up my silence.

"O-okay – you a-aren't a kid!"

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Y-you are n-not a KID!"

Edward pauses his advances, making me breathe a sigh or relief. I must be the colour of a raspberry, and my chest is heaving.

"You know, I think I overestimated your stubbornness."

"What makes you say that?" I wonder breathlessly.

"Well, I definitely thought it would take longer for you to crack."

I huff, looking at him with disdain – "well sorry, but I didn't think either of us would be in the romantic mood if I ended up pissing all over you."

"Okay, point taken."

He grabs our food off the coffee table, and we settle back into our positions to eat.

"I do like Lady and the Tramp though" I offer.

He chuckles, "glad to hear it."

The conversation remains light as we tuck into our food. We chat about relatively normal stuff; he tells me about Emmett's antics at work that as usual – has me in hysterics.

"Has he got a girlfriend?" I wonder. Although I have seen Emmett a number of times since our first meeting, I had never heard him talking about, let alone seen him with another girl.

"Why? You interested?"

I slap his arm light heartedly, "I am just curious!"

He shakes his head, "nah, Emmett has never really had a girlfriend. More like… 'special friends.'"

I snort at the term, "why not? I mean he's funny, cute and successful… I know lots of girls that would love to date a guy like him."

"Miss Swan, are you trying to match-make my best friend?"

"Is that a bad thing?" I shrug "wouldn't it be nice to go on double dates with him?"

Edward watches me, pensively "I don't know. Em doesn't really stay interested in one girl for too long. The date would probably end up with him talking to you all night, and me trying to entertain the girl."

"Okay, maybe no double date in the future then." I don't like the thought of Edward entertaining some faceless girl. Not. At. All.

He laughs at the jealous glint in my eye, rubbing my foot that is perched beside his leg, "don't worry baby – you are the only girl I see."

"How come you aren't jealous?" I whine playfully "at the thought of Emmett chatting me up all night."

Edward snickers, "trust me, any other guy and I would be cracking my knuckles. But I know Emmett, and he has got an unhealthy obsession with blondes – that rivals my addiction to brunettes."

I raise a flippant eyebrow at his use of the plural.

"Brunette," He corrects with a smirk "anyway, if it's a double date you want – we can always go out with Alice and Jasper."

Now _that_ is an idea. Edward absolutely loves Alice; he thinks her sense of humour is hilarious, and they have a banter that would make people think that they are brother and sister.

Edward had also met Jasper several weeks ago, and despite the four-year age gap, they get on like a house on fire. This is largely due to their mutual appreciation for baseball and Guitar Hero. They have even made plans to watch the New York Mets.

"Yeah, I'll ask Al when she gets better."

"Alice is ill?" Edward asks, concerned.

"Yes, I spent part of last night on the bathroom floor with her while she was throwing up."

"She was sick?"

"Yep. For a week or so apparently, to be honest I am ashamed that I didn't notice before. She has been so quiet lately, and I just chalked it up to exhaustion."

"Hey," Edward interjects, stroking my foot again in a comforting gesture "it's not your fault. Everyone has just been so busy – how could've you known?"

"I guess" I say grudgingly "she won't even go to the doctor."

A knowing glint flashes in his eyes, but as quick as it appears – it vanishes.

"Well, she'll end up going sooner rather than later. Just give her a little push, that's probably all she needs."

"Yeah, that's sounds like a good idea."

We stay quiet; and I think about Alice. I hope she is a little less stressed after getting whatever needed to be done today. We never keep anything from each other, so maybe when everything is done, she can open up to me.

"Is it what you expected?" Edward asks suddenly.

I look at him mid bite "What?"

"The apartment," he says conversationally, "is it what you expected?"

I chew thoughtfully, "Yes and no."

"Oh?"

I swallow, "well, after all the incredible dates and your transportation, I was kind of expecting you to have an equally amazing apartment, but…"

"But?" he prods, clearly intrigued.

"It's not very… you, I guess. I mean – it's just very modern and cold. Your room is you in every sense of the word, with the music and film display and the warm colours, and the pictures. But the rest of this place, it doesn't feel personal. It just feels like someone else has decorated and you just moved in. Y'know?"

He silently appraises me, and for a second I feel like I have said too much. Have I offended him?

"I don't get it."

I stare at him, dumbstruck – shit, I shouldn't have said it was cold. He's going to tell me that he spent ages picking out colour schemes and furniture, and I have totally ripped it apart.

"I am so-"

"How can someone who I have only known a month, know me better than people who I have known all my life?"

I blush, looking at my lap.

I feel his body before I see him. He moves so he is even closer that he was before – my thigh fully touching the length of his. With his index finger, he gently tips my head back so that we are nose to nose.

With his fingertips he caresses my face gently, reverently, and dare I say – lovingly?

The movement is full of adoration as he traces the contours of my face, the slope of my nose, my dimples. In that moment, I decide that I must tell him of my epiphany the night before.

"Edward, I have realised something."

He backs up slightly, but his fingers don't leave my face. He strokes my cheekbones reassuringly as he waits for me to continue.

"I know that I have been pushing about your past, a lot. And I still want to know more about you, but I am not going to be forcing you to give me information anymore. The truth is – I don't care about what you are hiding. You are a wonderful, kind, generous man, and it is that man who I lo-care about. Not the man of the past. Just know, that whenever you are ready to tell me, I am here to listen. But until then I will wait… because you, you are _worth_ waiting for."

His eyes go all glassy, and he looks at me like I am the most cherished thing in the world – or _his_ world, at least.

"What have I done to deserve you?" He whispers, brokenly.

It breaks my heart to think that he doesn't believe he doesn't deserve me. Why can't he see himself, the way I see him?

I decide that the only way he can believe me – is for me to show him. So I slowly, gently push myself to my knees; and kiss him.

He weaves his right hand into my hair, massaging the back of my head whilst his left hand continues to cradle my face.

The only sound in the room is the sound of our kisses. Both of my hands lie on his neck; I kiss every part of his face – butterfly kisses on his cheekbones, jaw line, forehead and nose. They are a so soft and delicate that they seem to almost tickle him, making him laugh lightly.

My lips turn up into a smile, as I make the journey down to the column of his throat – this time leaving open mouthed kisses – a trail of fire left in my wake. His Adam's apple bobs up and down as I nibble on it, careful not to leave a mark.

He places his hands on my waist, picking me up effortlessly – with my mouth still attached to his neck – and putting me on his lap, so that I am comfortably straddling him. I can feel his raging erection straining from his jeans, against my increasingly wet centre. He grinds upward, giving me delicious friction but is restrained due to the confinement of our jeans. Suddenly all I want is to be with him- in a bed skin to skin, nothing separating this ecstasy and us.

His fingers snake under my shirt, swirling up my spine. I flick my hair over my shoulder, as he lifts my head so that he can kiss me again. There is a no sense of control and our lips become demanding. This is what love is. Love is a lack of control and wild abandon. We crush our lips together and grind on each other, moving our heads at angles that make the kisses impossibly deeper but not deep enough.

Breathing heavily, I cross my arms over my body and yank my shirt over my head, leaving me in my violent lace bra. I waste no time at pulling off his shirt, revealing his gorgeous body to me.

My hands hungrily flow over his upper body, at his pecs and abs. Much like his kisses, I don't think there will ever come a time when I get sick of the sight of his body.

"Wait," he gasps as I scrape my nails down his chest.

I pull back slightly, the faint sting of hurt filling me. Does he not want this? He is a man after all, and we have been putting off sex for a while – waiting for the right time. Surely he doesn't want to continue waiting?

With effort, he looks me in the eye, forcing them away from the sight of my breasts heaving against the thin lace of my bra.

"Are you ready for this?" He asks, his breathes coming out short.

I look him softly, I can feel how hard he is and the way his hands are gripping at my body clearly indicates to me that it is taking everything within him to stop. He is willing to stop if I am not ready – I fall a little bit more in love with him.

I know I am not ready to tell him that I love him, but I want to show him. I am ready.

I rake my hand through his hair, not taking my eyes from his- "Yes."

"Even if I haven't told y-"

I place a finger on his lips, dragging his bottom lip down "Yes Edward. I want to connect with you – fully. Wholly. And your past has no infliction on that. Please; just open yourself up to me."

He copies my movements, entwining his fingers into my long hair "I'm never going to let you go."

"I'm counting on that."

He desperately kisses me, and stands up, holding me up with his hands on my ass.

I wrap my whole body around him, arms wrapped around his shoulders, legs tight on his waist.

He walks us to his bedroom, holding me firmly and protectively. He kisses me delicately, sucking my bottom lip between his. The feeling of his skin against mine is indescribable.

When we finally get to his room, he closes the door behind us and places me in the middle of his large bed.

He stands up staring at me for a moment, just lying on the bed and breathing hard from the passionate embrace.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"

I giggle, blushing under his appraisal.

He watches with interest as my blush travels all the way to my breasts.

"Will you come down here already?" I demand, stretching out to him like a child wanting their favourite toy.

He grins at me "Patience baby, I plan to spend all night worshipping your body – just as you deserved to be."

I stutter as he bends forward, flicking the button of my jeans and pulling them down my legs so that all I am donning is my matching underwear.

"Jesus," he whispers in awe.

He raises my left leg, and similar to that night at the club, he peppers kisses at my ankle – moving slowly down in sweet, sweet torture.

Edward presses hot kisses against my legs, down my calves then my thighs; flicking his tongue out every once and a while; causing my body to arch with need.

Then just as he reaches the place I crave him most, he grabs my right leg, giving it the same attention.

By the end of it I wither on the bed contemplating if I should start to beg.

He then lays his upper body on the bed, stretching my legs out to accommodate him – his face directly over my centre. With his index finger he traces the outline of my panties teasingly.

"Christ, baby – you are soaked through."

"P-please," I beg; my hands fist the comforter.

He bends down nudging his nose against where my clit is, blowing warm air against where I need him most.

"Please Edward!"

He finally obliges, getting up and pulling my underwear off. As the cold air hits me, I gasp. Then he's back in his space. He lays hot, open-mouthed kisses on my outer lips and like he did with my legs, flicks his tongue out.

Fire... just pure fire.

"Edwarrrrd."

With his fingers he holds my lips open, and drags the flat of his tongue over my hot flesh.

I scream at the sensation, he starts licking with a sense of urgency; and his fingers join in, finding my g-spot easily and rubbing at my nub deliciously. There are tears forming at the corner of my eyes at the amazing feeling. His fingers play me like he did with the piano. They dance and flow with a sense of familiarity and soon I am tipped over the edge in an outstanding orgasm.

"Edward!" I scream. He continues to suck and lick as I am overcome with wave after wave of ecstasy.

As I come down from my high, I use all my strength to pull him upwards. He willingly comes, kissing me full on the mouth and I can taste myself on him. Logically, I knew I should find this disgusting, but with the combined flavour of him and me on his tongue, my heart flutters.

"Take your jeans off."

He tugs of his jeans, leaving him in his grey Calvins. Yum.

He lies his body over mine, keeping aloft by his forearms. We just make out for a few minutes while I collect myself.

Feeling incredibly turned on, I twist so that I am on top of him.

He smiles up at me, his hands dancing up and down my back.

I kiss down his neck, biting down at the sensitive point when his neck meets his shoulder. He gasps at the feeling, but I don't pause.

I use the tip of my tongue to trace his pecs, while my nails move down his arms in sure strokes – just the way he likes it.

I take his nipple between my teeth, pulling at it then licking away the sting and doing the same to the opposite one. I continue my suck-teeth-lick pattern down to his upper body until I meet the waistband of his boxer shorts.

He heaves a sigh, and I palm his cock over the thin cotton.

"Please, baby."

"Not nice to be teased, is it?" I joke.

He growls, his dick grinding upwards.

"Nuh-uh, patience baby" I repeat, loving the frustrated look on his face.

When I finally do remove his boxers, he looks like he is about to cry from relief.

I take him quickly into my hands, stroking rhythmically. I lick my left hand, and move again.

"That's so hot." He breathes, his eyes heavy-lidded.

I wink, and lean down licking his head.

He jerks, his body shaking with need. I take him fully into my mouth, and my hands massage his balls slowly and sensually.

"B-Bella…" Edward groans, his hands dive into my hair moving me up and down his dick.

I scrape my teeth lightly up him, in the way that he so appreciated before. He grunts.

"BELLA!" He shouts, and then he comes. I swallow and swallow, keeping my eyes on him as he watches me.

As he finishes, he draws me up his body, and flicks my bra with one hand, throwing across the room. I laugh as his eager eyes look at my boobs. He is such a guy sometimes.

My giggles instantly turn into moans as he takes my nipple into his mouth, while his fingers flick and tug on the other. He sucks sharply, then laps at it to take away the sting.

I cradle his head to my chest as he pays special attention to my tits, biting, kissing, licking… magical.

Copying his pattern on my left breast, my pussy weeps for him.

"Edward, I need you."

He moves away from my breasts and looks at me, smouldering.

"Where, sweetheart?"

"I-inside me."

He inhales sharply, and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear – searching my eyes for any doubt.

"Are you sure?" He whispers.

"Yes. Please. I need you – I want you… so bad."

He nods, and leans over to the bedside table. He pulls out a condom.

"Let me," I say.

I take it from his hands, ripping the packaging away with my teeth. He never moves his eyes of me, he just lovingly caresses with my body.

We both roll the condom onto his dick, and I feel an overwhelming need for him.

I lie down, and he lies on top of me, his cock nudging at my entrance.

He strokes my hair, his right hand entwining with mine, "ready?"

"Yes."

He moves inside me – and…

It's beyond words.

I can't even begin to describe what it feels like.

"Oh my god, Bella" Edward pants, moving inside of me.

I beam up at him, our hands gripping each other.

"You are so tight and wet," he says heavily, moving a little faster "you are beyond perfection."

"Edward, baby - faster, harder."

He pounds into me, and I honestly see stars dotting my vision. It's an outer-body experience. He has ruined me for all over men. No way can this ever be matched.

"EDWARD!" I scream.

"BELLA – YES ANGEL!"

As I let go, he's not too far behind me. It is heaven, paradise – all that cheesy stuff rolled into one.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. You are incredible," Edward says.

I just lay there – content in his arms. Life couldn't get more perfect.

…

"If you could apparate to any place in the world right now, where would you go?"

We had just engaged into another round of sex, and I think it is safe to say that the feeling of him inside me will never get old. Now, we are just laying on his bed, beneath the covers, me lying across Edward's chest as he plays with my hair, our skin sticking together from the perspiration. The scent of our lovemaking is thick in the air, but I don't want to move.

"Apparate? As in Harry Potter apparate?"

That's one of the things I love about Edward – he always knows what I am going on about, even if it is really random.

"Yeah."

"Hmm…" he goes silent for a moment, and I lazily draw hearts along his skin.

"Do you know what – I am perfectly happy being right here, with you."

I inwardly swoon.

"What about you?"

"Barbados," I say without hesitation.

He is still for a second, probably stunned by the quickness of my response; then flips over so he is hovering above me.

"Oh yeah?" he challenges, pushing his already hard cock into me.

I refrain from moaning, "yeah. I've never been before. Actually, I've never actually been outside of the States."

He pulls away with an expression of complete disbelief. I feel like hitting myself for a moment. Why did I have to give him a legitimate reason? Why didn't I just continue teasing him? If I had, we would probably be doing something a lot more interesting than simply talking…

"You've never been outside the States?"

I sigh, "no. I've always wanted to go though… Stratford Upon Avon in England, Venice and Verona…"

"Are any of the places _not_ literary based?" He jokes.

"Well, Italy is a big one for me. We wouldn't necessarily have to go to Venice or Verona, anywhere would do – maybe Rome? Ooh! How about Lake Garda?"

I am so caught up in the prospects that these places have to offer, that I don't realise that Edward is gaping at me with a mix of joy and surprise.

"What?"

He brings me into the circle of his arms and I place my hands over his heart.

"We?"

I rethink what had just come out of my mouth – oh my god. I just told him where _we_ would be going. I flush.

"Well yes… I mean, why wouldn't I want to share all those adventures with you?"

His face lights up, and he rubs his nose against mine in a sweet Eskimo kiss, "I will take you one day."

I smile, closing my eyes at the thought of having a future with Edward standing beside me.

Which reminds me…

My eyes shoot open, and I excitedly get up on my knees. Edward remains lying down, watching me with amused eyes as I bounce up and down like a child on Christmas morning.

"Oh my god! I forgot to tell you!"

"Angel, before you tell me anything – would you mind, um, covering up? I can't seem to concentrate when you look like that."

I look down. The sheets had fallen to my waist, and my whole upper body was on show. I grab the comforter, and pull it up so that it covers my tits from his sight.

"Okay, well, remember when you said that I looked like 'I was in my own world' when I came out of my lecture this morning?"

"Yes. You had this dopey smile on your face." He grins affectionately, flicking my nose.

I giggle, "Yeah well, that's because one of the professors at the university has asked _me_ to give the annual speech at the humanities ball!"

Edward's smile widens and he sits up hurriedly, crushing his lips to mine.

"My girl is making a speech?" He cheers.

I laugh happily "yep!"

He tackles me, holding my body tight to his – "I am so proud of you love, congratulations."

I take his hand into mine "and do you know what would make this even more special? For you to come and support me."

His eyes glitter as he raises my hand to his lips, kissing each finger, and the palm of my hand.

"It would be a pleasure."

I kiss him in thanks, a small but loving kiss to convey my appreciation.

"When is it?"

"October the 21st," I reply absentmindedly.

He freezes, "Next Saturday?"

I look at him – his hand suddenly feels limp in mine, and his posture is extremely tense. My eyebrows furrow in concern.

"What's up?"

"Um, I… Oh baby, I don't think I can make it."

The light-hearted, euphoric atmosphere is sucked out the room, leaving a bitter and cold silence. He looks pained, but all I feel is bewilderment. What just happened? A moment ago we were talking about going to Italy together. A few minutes before that, we were making love. What's going on?

"Oh – do you have work?" I try to keep my voice casual, but it's a struggle. Surely if he has work, he can swap shifts with Emmett or Mike or any of his other co-workers?

"Uh, no. It's a family thing actually."

My perplexity merges into anger, a family thing? What family thing?

"What family thing Edward?"

He reaches his hand over, trying to touch me but I snatch it back – I won't be able to concentrate if he touches me.

"I-"

Then a shrill ring cuts through the air. I watch as he reaches over to check his phone. I peek over his shoulder, and see a name that makes my blood boil – Rosalie.

He heaves a tired sigh and declines the call, turning back to me.

"What family thing?" I repeat through gritted teeth.

Edward swallows thickly, running a hand through his hair. His sex hair. I was running my own hands through that hair – not even an hour ago.

"It's been planned for a while now. I don't want to go, I want to listen to your speech – believe me. But I can't get out of it."

I'm feeling pent up now, "You never mentioned you had a family thing before? Why does it take me asking you to go somewhere for you to finally mention it?"

"Bella, I have been trying to get out of it. I swear. But it's complicated-"

I release a hard laugh "It's always complicated."

His phone goes off again – Rosalie. He growls, declining it again and tossing it to the bottom of the bed.

"What is it then? What does this family thing consist of?"

He is all uneasy, avoiding my eyes that are currently sending daggers "it's a big event in celebration of a charity my parents support."

To say I am confused in an understatement, "support? As in present tense?"

He goes white as a sheet, and I feel bile rise up in my throat. Is this some sick joke? What the fuck is going on?

"Baby…"

I shake my head wildly, jumping out of the bed "is it all a lie? Is your mother even fucking dead!? Was it all a ploy to make me feel sorry for you?"

Now he's angry. Fuck that. He's furious. He gets out of the opposite side of the bed. Both of us are stark naked, but that's the furthest thing from our minds.

"Hang on a minute, you slept with me because you felt _sorry_ for me?" he fumes.

I stare at him stunned - this isn't my Edward: this Edward with dark eyes and a vacant face.

"Of course not!" I yell, "I slept with you because I am falling for you, and I want to connect with you! And how the hell have you turned this all on me? You are the one who fucking lied! The one who won't tell me anything of his past!"

"You said earlier that the past didn't fucking matter to you! Or was that bullshit?"

"Don't you fucking DARE Edward! I don't give a shit about your past, but this is obviously the present. You can't come to my speech because your parents – oh, who aren't dead by the way – are having this huge thing, which you didn't even bother to bring up before! How the fuck is this my fault?"

He rubs his face, looking upset. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his shoulders are hunching – like he has the world on his shoulders.

"They are my adoptive parents, Bella."

I am confounded, "Your… what?"

He looks down ashamed. He's adopted? Why hasn't he told me? Was this what he was so scared to tell me?

"I am adopted." He repeats.

"Is that _it?"_ I ask, feeling some of the energy drain from my body, "because Edward, people get adopted everyday… it's not something to be embarrassed of."

"It's not… there is more to it than that" Edward disagrees, his eyes bloodshot.

"Then explain it to me! Edward, _please"_ I beg, my eyes filling up with tears "tell me what is going on, because I don't have a fucking clue."

"Baby…" he looks at me with an agonising expression.

The phone rings again, and he goes to pick it up.

"You are actually going to answer it?" I ask, shock radiating through me. Tears course down my face.

"I – I have to. I am sorry Bella. I'll explain everything."

"Don't fucking bother." I spit.

I turn around, crossing my arms across my chest, as if the action is going to stop me from falling apart.

I hear him slowly walk out of the room to answer the phone. I feel like laughing. He won't even answer the fucking phone in front of me. Everything. He hides everything!

I look at the bed; the rumpled sheets that we had been lying on sharing dreams, flirting, _loving._

Was that all nothing to him?

I can't do this right now. I can't listen to him try and worm him out of it.

I grab my bra from the floor and run to the living room quietly. I can hear him in the guest room shouting at Rosalie. Who is she to him? An ex-girlfriend? An ex- _wife?_

God, I am so fucking stupid! I let my feelings cloud my judgement, I allowed him to hide all of this. I feel like a fly caught up in a spider's web unable to escape.

I pull on my jeans and shirt on roughly, heaving my overnight bag over my shoulder. I just carry my converses, prepared to put them on in the elevator. I don't want to spend another fucking second here.

Seeing his keys on the side table by the door, I grab them and toss them into the walking cupboard opposite. Hopefully that would delay him from coming after me.

I rush out of the door and jump in the elevator.

It isn't until I am in the cab that I break down. Every emotion crashes into me like water in a dam. I feel so overwhelmed. The consuming joy from earlier is overshadowed by the encompassing emotion of betrayal. Because at the crux of it all, that is what he has done – he has betrayed me.

He took advantage of my trusting nature, and wove lie after lie after lie. He allowed me to fall in love with him. But do I really know him? The Edward I know would never hurt me like this. He would've told me he was adopted during our first date. He would have mentioned a huge, family event as soon as his parents had asked him.

Walking to my apartment, I feel numb. My tears are dry on my cheeks, and my eyes feel crusty. My phone vibrates against my hip but I don't dare answer it. Fuck him and fuck his lies.

Stepping into the apartment, I find it almost as dark and lonely as I feel.

There is a crack of light visible in the bathroom, and loud sobs echo.

For the first time since Edward rejecting me, I forget about my own problems and walk to the door.

"Hello?"

I slowly open the bathroom door and I am shocked to see Alice sitting on the toilet, looking like she had been dragged through hell and back.

Her black hair is messy as though she has attempted to rip chunks of it out, and there are sparkly trails of mascara running from her eyes as her body shakes from her sobs.

"Alice?" I murmur, walking over to her slowly.

I kneel in front of her, "What has happened? Are you hurt? Where is Jasper?"

She looks down at me, her bottom lip quivering. Then she opens her hands to me, revealing a white stick.

"I'm pregnant."


	10. Chapter 10

_**Disclaimer- all characters sadly belongs to the one and only Stephanie Meyer!**_

 _ **Hello everyone! Again, a late update, I can only really apologise. I am really bad at this whole updating thing, but here is my gift to you – an outrageously long chapter and a special surprise that you will find midway through…**_

 _ **This may not be the chapter you are expecting. I think that the chapter you guys will be looking forward to is likely to be the next, but please be patient with me!**_

 _ **Thank you for all your amazing reviews, follows and favourites. It was really interesting reading them! Some totally got where Bella was coming from, whilst others thought she was totally unreasonable. Hopefully this chapter will show you where our girl's head is at!**_

 _ **I hope you enjoy this next chapter of my story, and pleeeeeeease tell me what you think!**_

 _ **The playlist for this chapter was 'The Scientist' by Coldplay, 'Helium' by Sia and 'Iris' by the Goo Goo Dolls.**_

 _ **Lots of love xo**_

 **10.**

 **BPOV**

 **Baby, please come back; I can explain xx-E**

 **Bella – seriously. I'm sorry, I'll tell you everything xx –E**

 **I'm so sorry Baby, I know this is my fault but... please come back to me. I can't be without you Bella xx –E**

 **Bella where the hell have you put my keys? Call me, text me,** _ **anything**_ **. –E**

 **I'm getting worried Bella – can you at least tell me that you've gotten home safely? -E**

 **Fuck's sake Isabella, I'm going to walk to your apartment. You can't ignore me forever! We need to sort this out once and for all. –E**

 **This isn't over Bella. Once I tell you everything, you can ignore me, you can give me the silent treatment, you can fucking hate me… But until then, please don't give up on me. –E**

I hold my phone to my chest, tears welling up in my eyes. I quickly blink them away. No, I will not cry again tonight. Too many tears have been shed – now I have to be strong. Not just for myself, but for Alice and the baby.

After calming Alice down, I had managed to convince her to go to bed. All the stress and anxiety couldn't be good for the baby. However, with both of us not wanting to spend the night alone she ended up sleeping in my bed – in the space that Edward usually occupies. She is curled up like a cat facing me with her elfin face blotchy from crying and raven spikes in disarray.

The room is pitch black, the furniture shapeless and the street unusually silent. I typically found the dark somewhat comforting; kind of like a warm blanket, secure and familiar. I never really understood people who were scared of the dark. To me, it offered a sense of clarity – no longer distracted by random objects in the room or the buildings visible through the window or the people who hurried along the street below. It's just my thoughts and me.

But tonight, I find no solace in the darkness. I miss the weight of Edward's arm over my waist, pinning me to the bed. I crave the warmth that emits from him as the lines of his body meet mine. I need to feel his breath tickling my face as he nuzzles into the crook of my neck unconsciously.

I just – I _love_ him.

An errant tear runs down my cheek, and I scrub it away. I look back at my phone – ten messages, twenty-seven missed calls and I am pretty sure my entire voicemail box is full.

The texts are increasingly desperate and apologetic. Some have an angry edge but most sound… devastated. His emotion and pain makes my cheeks flush and eyes prickle.

I put the phone back down and close my eyes, trying to sleep in vain. But as soon as I close them, visions of the night flash behind my eyes.

Edward playing the piano, his hands moving up and down the keys; a beautiful melody surrounding us; a cute v between his brows as he concentrates on the song; a song that paints our history in vivid and vibrant strokes.

His head thrown back, carefree in his laughter as his fingers tickle me relentlessly, feeling his body against my squirming one, the heat of his touch clear despite the playful energy.

Him hovering above me as we come down from our high – delicious warmth spreading through me like wildfire, his emerald eyes intense as he watched me, he calls out my name like a sweet prayer – _Bella, Bella, Bella._

The strange look on his face when he finally confessed that he is adopted; flashes of pain and defiance and sadness evident in those expressive eyes of his.

The plea in his voice as he asks me to stay before turning to answer the phone, his whole body hunched over – so different to his naturally confident stance. It's almost abnormal, and my entire being itched to go over to comfort him. But no… Instead I left him.

There are two conflicting feelings when I process this train of thought.

A major part of me is regretful. In hindsight, I should have stayed to hear what he had to stay. He has kept me in the dark for so long, and I deserved to at least know _why._ However, when he had finally decided to shed some light on the situation I left… I ran away like a coward.

Yet, taking that into account – I am relieved that I left. I was – and still am – completely pent up. One minute I am experiencing utter elation through our lovemaking, then consuming rejection as he says no to my invitation and the next moment, I find out that he has a whole family that I never even knew about. Edward always held me under the impression that he was alone, with the exception of Emmett and I. But that was a lie. _What else has he lied to me about?_

The sensation of anger and betrayal, sadness and confusion – that was the reason why everything escalated so damned quickly.

In the heat of the moment, under the haze of such emotion – there would have been no way of me being able to sit and listen to his story without saying something that I would immediately regret.

When Edward finally divulges to me I want to go in with an open heart and an open mind, because despite all of his bullshit, I truly love him and I can't picture a future without him in it.

Perhaps that made me stupid and naïve but wasn't love both of those things? I may have not been in love before but this feeling that courses through my body simply correspond with everything I learnt about love through my books and observations. Love is throwing caution to the wind, and trusting that person and _forgiving_ that person. Love is being there for someone, through the thick of it all.

Beyond all of this, I am also thankful that I returned home when I did, just to be there for Alice. In all the years I have known her, I have never ever seen Alice break down and to be quite frank, it terrified me.

Alice is always so self-assured in her actions. Everything she does comes with absolute confidence, but no one, not even Alice can predict an unplanned pregnancy.

Whilst I cannot read her mind, I imagine that most of her distress is based upon her parents.

It is no secret that Alice is rich. Whether that was obvious through the amazing apartment in which we live in – an apartment that two students couldn't normally afford – or her designer clothes and Jimmy Choo collection. Alice's father Robert Brandon was part owner of a prestigious law firm in Mississippi, allowing Alice and her mother Cynthia to live comfortable lives without the necessity to work.

Looking past Alice's affinity for everything designer, Alice never exhibited her wealth. That was one of the things I adored about her. She didn't think she was better than anyone else; she saw herself as everybody's equal.

Alice had confided to me that with her being the only child in the Brandon line, it was expected of her to take over her father's firm – but instead she chose her love for fashion.

Her parents were extremely disapproving of the choice, but somehow she managed to convince them to let her follow her dream. Personally, having met Ali's parents, they probably thought that Alice's fashion ventures were some childish hobby that she would grow out of. But now in her third year, the Brandons were resigned to the fact that Alice would not become a lawyer.

Alice thinks that they are just waiting for her to slip up… an excuse for them to pull her out of NYU and thrust her into law. Due to this, over the last few years she has tried to be as independent from her family as possible and prove to them that fashion was the best path for her. She achieved this by – going from the name 'Mary' to 'Alice', picking up a job in a cute boutique downtown, selling some of her designs on Etsy and even creating her own blog in the attempt to establish a name for herself.

But this pregnancy… this would cancel all her hard work out. She would be forced back into her parents' shadows.

Using the light of my phone, I look over Alice. Even in sleep she looks uneasy. Her brow is furrowed, and her lip is caught between her teeth.

She needs me – now more than ever. I know Jasper loves her, and whenever she decides to tell him, he will be there for her. But right now she needs her best friend.

Then there is the whole speech thing. My education has always been extremely important to me, especially seeing that no Swan (or Higginbotham for that matter) has ever gone to Uni. I had done everything to get here – maintaining a solid 4.0 GPA, becoming president of the debate team and acting as Valedictorian. Now all that hard work was coming to fruition. This was my time to shine.

As the clogs turned in my mind, something dawned on me… lately school had really taken a back seat to Edward. While he didn't have a serious effect on my work ethic, it has changed my perspective. Changing me from a driven and focused young woman to a love struck girl – turning into those swooning damsels that I couldn't stand. I will never regret Edward neither do I resent him or would ever be willing to give him up, but with the speech looming, it was paramount for me to place my concentration on it before placing my attention back on to Edward.

With this at the forefront of my mind, I look back at my phone. The most recent text reads –

 **I understand that you need space Bella. Just please text me to let me know that you are safe. I have something to do, but I will call you soon… Words cannot express how much I regret not telling you everything Baby; I am a coward. I miss you sweetheart xx –E**

I heave a sigh, tapping out a reply-

 **I am at the apartment. I want to listen Edward, but I need time… and Alice needs me, please respect that. I will call you.**

My thumbs pause over the send button. I read over his text again, and my heart softens a little. I can almost see the expression that would have been on his face when typing this. One hand running through his wild hair in frustration and nerves as his other hand holds his phone, his thick brow scrunched up causing a thin line on his forehead to appear prominently, his green eyes alive with concern.

The image is clear and with that, I type three simple words and shoot off the message without a second glance. I place my phone on the bedside table, my body suddenly feeling the exhaustion of the day. My thoughts linger on those three words as I drift off into a restless sleep…

 **Miss you too xx –B**

…

I wake up to two things the next morning.

Firstly – I am alone in my bed and the sheets cold, indicating that Alice had vacated it a long time ago.

And secondly – 'Feel it Still' is blaring loudly from the kitchen, practically making my room vibrate.

Disorientated, I rub my eyes. The room is extremely bright as the cold winter light filters through my blinds.

I roll languidly out of bed, following the loud beat of the music. I don't know what I expected to find. Perhaps Alice lying on the couch, head beneath a pillow as she attempts to drown out the world around her (she can be a drama queen at times). Or maybe Jasper is here and trying to cheer her up – although this is the most unlikely. I have always pinned him as an Indies / Country kind of guy.

Instead I find my best friend in the living room, freshly showered and dressed in her yoga gear, complete with lilac sports bra and black Nike leggings. She is in the plank position, copying a perky blonde on the screen.

I watch her for a moment, completely confused. This is the Alice I know, an Alice I recognise. What had happened between now and last night?

Alice must have felt my gaze, because her head snaps in my direction. She grins, her face flushed from exertion "Sorry to wake you, but its nearly midday."

My eyes widen at the revelation, I must have been more tired than I anticipated.

"Did you hear about Carlisle Cullen?"

I plopped down on the sofa, as she casually resumes her pose, "no?"

"According to E! He suffered from a mini heart attack last night."

"Isn't he a heart surgeon?"

"Ironic, right?"

I pause for a moment, wondering why the hell we were chatting about some random rich guy rather than the revelations of last night.

"Al, about last night,"

"But apparently he is still going to make an appearance at the Charity Gala next Saturday," she interjects quickly "and it was confirmed by Esme Cullen that their son Anthony will be coming to show his support! How exciting is that? I mean, the last anyone really saw him was when he was twelve, and with a gene pool like his I bet he is a real hottie – "

"Alice!" I say impatiently "I don't care about some fancy socialite family. I care that my best friend is preg-"

"Stop Bella," Alice pleads, her face filling with panic. She kneels in front of me placing her hands on my knees "I don't want to talk about it."

I gaze at her softly, "I get it Al, but this is something you can't really avoid."

"I know. But please humour me. Can we just have a few hours of normality?"

I look at her, searching her face. Her grey eyes are filled with unmistakable tears, and worry. I know in that moment that while there was no way she could continue alluding me, it was best to leave the subject at hand alone… for now.

"Gossip Girl or Pretty Little Liars?"

…

 _ **Five hours later…**_

"Y'know, watching this really does put your life into perspective."

I turn my gaze from the screen where the four Liars were seen to be panicking over a large box of scary looking dolls – a present from their stalker 'A'.

"I mean, at least I am not getting stalked my a psycho or getting blackmailed by dead friend or banging my teacher."

I giggle at her reasoning, "Glad to see that your optimism isn't totally lost."

She exhales loudly and turns so that she is fully facing me "okay, I'll tell you everything."

Thankful that I no longer had to keep the façade up, I pause the TV, and sit down cross-legged inn front of her.

"Jasper is the father. I got pregnant from the first night we slept together… the night we met. We were both so drunk and giddy that we must've forgotten to use a condom. I did have the morning pill," she laughs humourlessly "obviously not as effective as I had hoped."

She looks down at her hands but I don't say a word – she needs to get this all off her chest without any interruptions.

"I always knew that I would want kids – _Jasper's_ kids," She gives me a small smile, "little raven haired, blue eyes girls and blonde haired, grey eyed boys. But that was meant to be _years_ from now. When I had established my career, and when Jasper had finished his Masters degree. Fuck Bells, he has barely begun his second year of Uni, and now he's stuck with a kid? And he is from a traditional Southern family – I was supposed to get them to like me before I fucking got knocked up!"

At this point her voice was going up in hysteria, and tears are rushing down her face in cascades. I shuffle down the sofa, and put a comforting arm around her.

"He's the best thing that has happened to me B, and now he is going to leave me. And I'm going to have to move back home and – and…"

She sobs into my shoulder and her tiny body is shaking from the force of her cries. I can't help but tear up. What do you say to someone in this situation? Nothing I can say could possibly make her feel better. Fuck. What do I do?

"Ali, Jasper loves you. He's not going to leave you. He is a kind and generous man, who will support you and the baby – I have no doubt in it."

She looks up at me heartbroken, "but what if I'm not enough Bella? What if I am just tying him down I need to let him go…"

I look at her in the eye "Alice you need to tell him before making any rash decisions," I hesitate on my next words "are you, um… going to keep it?"

Alice looks down "Before the test, I thought that if I did come out positive that maybe… I don't know… but when I found out I am pregnant, I just cannot imagine killing something that is apart of Jasper and me, a product of _us._ But Bell, I'm not ready to be a mom Bella. I am not you."

I furrow my eyebrows, "me?"

"You are so responsible and nurturing Bella, I mean you were practically your mother's mom. You were born to be a mom! Me? I can barely look after myself! I spend my money like water, how the fuck am I meant to look after a baby?"

She stares at me as if I have all the answers, and I wish I did. So I say the only thing that I can think of –

"Ali, you are the strongest woman I know. You fought your parents for your passion, you are ambitious, you love unconditionally, you are humble and kind – I don't think a child could ask for a better mother. And it's okay to be scared Al, but know this – if Jasper isn't the man I think he is and ends up leaving you – then I will be there every single step of the way. You aren't going through this alone. You're my best friend, and we are in this together."

A huge watery smile dominates her face, and I can feel her tears staining my shirt as she brings me into an embrace.

It's us against the world.

 **EPOV**

I gazed at her text again, like the love struck fool I was, and a surge of hope ran through my body like a current as I read those three words.

 _ **Miss you too xx-B**_

My fingers are dying to click in her number, but if she wanted space then I would give her space.

I would wait a lifetime for her if that was what it took.

It was crazy how madly in love with her I was, in such a short period of time. I think I fell for her the moment I laid eyes on her…

 _The bar was bustling; music pounding; lights flashing. I wasn't meant to be in tonight, but Marcus had to pull out of his shift as his wife Dee-Dee was in labour with their second child. Of course I didn't resent him for not being able to work, but it was unusually busy for a Monday night and I had spent most of the day arguing with Esme over the phone. That woman was a fucking headache. After that, I was desperate to get home and release my frustrations on my guitar, or better yet – my piano. But instead, I was pouring out drinks to drunk and giggling girls who relentlessly throw themselves at me despite my polite rebukes._

 _Leaning up to grab a bottle from the top shelf, I suddenly feel a prickling sensation at the back of neck, causing me to freeze. Confused by the odd feeling I turn sharply to see a stunning brunette watching me closely. I am no stranger to beautiful girls, especially due to fact that I had grown up with Rosalie and all her model friends. But none hold a candle to the beauty of this girl._

 _She looks young, perhaps nineteen or twenty as there is little to none make up on her face – unlike most of the girls I had served tonight, who have their faces plastered in gunk. The only make up she seems to have is dark red lipstick that brings out the cupid bow of her lips._

 _Her delicate fingers twirled a long dark curl in a casually flirtatious gesture, but it was her eyes that captivated me. They were big and dark, and reminded me of that old film star from a movie Rosalie was obsessed with… something to do with Breakfast. They were twinkling in spite of the darkness, wandering up and down my body shamelessly – dark lashes casting shadows across her high cheekbones._

 _I could feel myself getting aroused from her gaze alone, and her perusal of my body caused a confident smirk to spread across my face._

" _You finished?" I tease her, delighted as colour noticeably rises in her cheeks._

" _Uh y-yes. Sorry, I must be drunker than I thought."_

 _Jesus, her voice is incredible. It sounds like bells, and I am instantly bombarded of images of her beneath me – calling my name out breathily. I force a laugh in a half-assed attempt to distract myself from these images._

" _No worries, like most men, I actually enjoy being ogled by a beautiful girl." The line is cheesy, and would have worked on every other girl that had come to my bar… but apparently not this one._

 _She rolls those gorgeous eyes at me, "wow, how many other girls have you said that to tonight?"_

 _Caught off guard by her lack of reaction to my compliment I change my course of action; "Of course, you are the only girl I have said that to." Lie, lie, lie – but it was the first time where I genuinely meant it._

" _Of course," she rolls her eyes again and I find myself amused by her irritation, "are you serving alone tonight?"_

 _I shrug my shoulders, again surprised by her change of direction. Seems like this girl likes to keep me on my toes._

" _Nah, Emmett is on a break, and Mike is out back" cleaning some puke in the men's bathroom… man, it was great to be the boss._

 _She nods at my answer, suddenly looking awkward "cool… uh could I get a Jack and Coke please?"_

 _I grin at the order. It's my favourite drink. Most girls tended to go for something more fruity and girly, the flirtatious ones in particular enjoy ordering something like 'Sex on the Beach' or 'Screaming Orgasm' in an attempt to get a reaction from me._

 _Not this one though. It occurs to me that she may be aware of this and is trying a different tactic – appearing to be different to all those of girls to grab my attention. Baby, you were doing that anyway._

" _Are you trying to impress me?" Cockiness seeps into my tone._

 _She looks too young to be ordering alcohol, and I am strict when supplying drink illegally. Not because I am much of a stickler for the rules, but more because I was a heavy drinker at seventeen and regretted it immensely._

" _Oh cut the crap, how old are you? Nineteen? Or are you in high school, rebelling against daddy?"_

 _Those incredible eyes widen at my accusation and a fire lights up from deep within her, spreading through her like a wildfire. Her small hands ball up into fists and she looks like an angry kitten, eyebrows furrowing and shoulders strong. Fuck, I hope she's not in high school, because the stuff that I imagine to do to her are beyond illegal, forget giving her a drink illegally._

" _Okay listen you condescending prick, you may be hot but that doesn't mean you lack of a verbal filter should be ignored. I am in my third year at NYU, majoring in English Literature and twenty-two years of age. So shut the fuck up and stop pretending you know everything, okay?"_

 _She stares at me furiously, tension clear in her voice and I search her face. Fuck, fuck, shit, shit. This woman is my dream woman. Not only is she unbelievably beautiful but she's feisty, strong and obviously crazily intelligent. I want to take her on my bar right now._

 _I smile at her, "You know, you look really sexy when you're mad."_

 _My kitten resists my charms but I can see a glint of lust in her Hershley colour eyes. Of course her eyes are the colour of my favourite fucking chocolate._

" _And you are the smuggest asshole I have ever come across."_

 _I bite back a huge grin, loving that she was standing up to me. Leaning forward I place my forearms on the bar so that we were practically nose to nose. She smells like strawberries and freesia, my mouth waters at the scent and I want to lick every part of her body._

 _One small movement and I could get my wish and taste her, but I don't want to push kitten any further away._

" _You want to go out sometime."_

 _A stunning smile spreads across her face, revealing a set of pearly white teeth and adorable dimples in her cheeks that I want to nibble on. Damn it, everything about her draws me in. At the smile, I feel my confidence grow and I inch a little closer._

 _I vaguely hear the notes of that popular Spanish song playing in the background but I am drunk on this girl. All I can think about is my need to feel her soft, flawless skin under my calloused hands. To push my fingers through her beautiful hair. To feel her hot lips moving against my own…_

" _Sorry, but I have to go and find my friend."_

 _I am beyond stunned, and she sends me a sexy smirk that makes my hard on even more prominent – if that is even possible. She flicks her long dark hair over her shoulder and moves to the crowd. From her I can see that her body matches her face – beautiful in every way. The blue dress highlights her tiny waist and the curves of her breasts and his. It stops mid thigh, showing off her long, milky legs that seem to go on forever._

 _I keep my eyes on her as she winds through the crowd towards a couple. I notice that I am not the only man who is completely captivated by her. Beyond aroused and bewitched by this creature, I rush to the office._

 _I find Emmett standing between some blonde girl's legs; making out with her in wild abandon. Fuck this. He does this most nights – tonight is my turn._

" _Oi! Breaks over, I'm going on mine."_

 _Emmett pulls away from his blonde, but I don't bother waiting for him. No way was I wasting time with this oaf when a beautiful brunette was moving her body on the dance floor, crowded by a group of hungry men._

 _When I find her, she is dancing with some cute pixie like girl who seems a little distracted by a tall blonde. My kitten sways back her delicious body tantalisingly, her neck completely exposed as she holds her hair up with her left hand – inviting me._

 _Her neck glistens with sweat and again I am driven with this desire to lick the saltiness off her skin._

 _I sidle up behind her, not too close to come across as creepy but enough to express my need for her. She turns suddenly at the feel of my firm body against her soft one. Her face betrays her shock in seeing me, and she pulls my face down to whisper in my ear._

" _Shouldn't you be at the bar?"_

 _Her scent, her warmth, I press my lips against her ear needing this closeness – desperate for his closeness._

" _I am on a break. Why didn't you answer my question?"_

 _Our hips move in complete synchronisation and I marvel at the way we fit together. She feels so right against me._

" _Conceited dickheads aren't my type. Don't you take no for an answer?"_

 _My need to take her is getting too much but I love teasing her too much – I skim my nose against the column of her neck, feeling her pulse against my nose, beating like a hummingbird._

 _She wants this just as much as I do._

" _You and I both know your real answer."_

 _I am unable to control myself – my tongue darts out, trailing around the shell of her ear slowly and sensually. The taste of her skin is sweet._

" _Y-you don't even know my name."_

" _Then tell me," I murmur between open-mouthed kiss. Christ this girl tastes spectacular. Imagine what she'd taste like from the main source…_

" _B-Bella."_

 _Of course her name is fucking Bella – it fits her perfectly. I smirk at the irony, "Bella – beautiful. I am Edward."_

" _Great." Her voice quakes under my administrations, "Well… Edward, I really should get going."_

 _No fucking way was she leaving. I was never going to let her fucking go. She was mine._

 _To affirm this, I hitch her leg around my waist, wrapping it around me so that she could feel my erection against her._

" _Do you really want to leave Bella?"_

 _I continue to kiss her neck, grinding to the rhythm of the music. Fuck, I can feel the heat of her pussy through the thick denim of my jeans. No way was she going._

 _Then suddenly she isn't in my arms anymore. Feeling the emptiness of her departure straight away, I look at her shocked._

" _I am not that type of girl Edward."_

 _Of course she isn't. I knew that from the moment she called my cheap-ass compliment out. She is so much more than the other girls._

 _I run my hand through my hair in frustration, wondering how to convey this to her, but it seems her attention has been redirected to the hint of skin I have shown from the rise of my shirt._

 _She licks her lips sexily yet totally unconsciously – I have a feeling she has no idea of how sexy she can be._

" _I never said that Bella. But I want you." I need you, "I like your fire."_

 _I take a tentative step forwards. Seeing that she wasn't stepping back, I place my hands back on her hips, pulling her back towards me – where she belonged._

" _I like your eyes."_

 _I move my lips back to her neck, licking and nibbling it, not getting enough of her._

" _Your hair."_

 _I weave both of my hands though her hair to emphasise my point. It's so soft between my fingers._

" _Your body. Your blush."_

" _Edward…" There is faint resignation in her voice but I know I have to be quick._

" _One kiss. Please."_

 _I am not even embarrassed by the obvious need in my voice. It's raw and clear in those three words but I don't care if I sound like a pussy. All that matters is Bella and this moment._

 _She draws me closer and I can feel her breasts against my chest, nipples straining through the material of her bra and dress – she needs this as much as me._

" _One kiss?"_

 _Please._

 _I am not sure whether it was her or me, but suddenly she's all I see, feel, taste. It's fucking heaven._

 _Our kiss is passionate, as our lips crush together; tongues licking one another in a dance that is both completely new but also so… normal. Normal in the fact that – its like she is meant to be kissing me._

 _Her legs are around me, and I can feel her pulsing pussy against me; hot and needy. I rub my erection against her in desperation, wishing that we were somewhere private. A place where we could be skin on skin._

 _I hold onto her perfect ass rising her upwards so I can kiss her even deeper. Fuck, she's amazing. She consumes me completely. I want to spend forever entangled with her._

 _I trail my hands up, feeling her skin; smooth under my rough arms._

 _She gasps, and pushes me away._

" _I really must go. Sorry."_

 _And then she is gone._

 _I am humiliated to admit that I just stood there for a moment, completely and utterly dumbfounded. The kiss has gotten me breathless and I have forgotten who and where I am._

 _The only thought in my mind is –_

 _I need her._

Since then my infatuation for Bella had only grown. Everything she did gave me a thrill.

The flush in her cheeks as I paid her a compliment or said something particularly sexual. Long lashes tickling the tops of her cheekbones as she tried to shy away from me. Of course, to no avail – whenever she was with me, I could barely stay mere two-steps away from her.

How she would dance while she was cooking or doing the laundry; shaking her shapely hips back and forth to an abysmal pop song from the charts – thinking that no one is watching, whilst I covertly gazed at her from the doorway.

Every time she spoke in her sleep; muttering in low whispers random words like 'truck' and 'fishing', to those throaty caresses of my name. Those were the moments when I would feel my heart pound just a little faster, and a cheesy grin spread across my face.

The dimples in her smile that I made sure to kiss whenever I had the chance, and the crinkles at the corner of her eyes when she was laughing particularly hard, chocolate eyes alive with mirth.

How she swam in my shirt, tugging on the hemline in a half-hearted attempt to cover up. But there was that tell tale sparkle in her eye that told me that she was teasing me.

When I would growl at her – usually before I would embark on tickle war or more excitingly, go down on her – and she would squeal

The stunning faces she makes when she orgasms, mahogany curls sticking to her face and neck with perspiration, eyes wide and glossed over, that detectable pink mouth set in an 'o' shape.

Then there was that constant thrumming of electricity that passed through us through every touch – from a simple brushing of the fingers to our passionate lovemaking.

The cute way she scrunches her nose when she is mad, her beautiful eyes burning with kitten-like fury. Her bottom lip going pale from the vice grip she has it between her teeth. This was something that I had only witnessed twice – once from when I had first teased her about her age in the club and the second… well, from _tonight._ My heart stings at that thought alone.

My mind rehashes those last moments I had seen her

Over the last few weeks, Bella had brought me a happiness that I hadn't truly felt since my mother had died. She was my sun, moon and stars. It was cheesy and something that was totally out of character for me; but this feeling that coursed through me made me feel powerful and untouchable. _She_ made me powerful and untouchable.

And I lost her.

I grunted my head falling backwards, hitting the hard wall and effectively bringing me back to reality.

I looked around in distaste.

The hospital was a place that I had come to greatly resent. Esme and Carlisle pin my hatred for it, to that fact that my mother couldn't be saved here – but that isn't true.

Nothing could save Elizabeth. Her life ended as soon as her car hit that wall, and proceeded to burst into flames. I wasn't even given a final goodbye, since her body was deemed 'unidentifiable' and some other bullshit excuse about how I needed to be 'shielded' from such a horrendous sight.

No, I hated this place because it was here that Esme and Carlisle had pushed me towards all my life. From a young age they drilled into me the idea of following Carlisle's footsteps and becoming a surgeon. When I was a kid, I could even remember them giving me, instead of a guitar that I had begged for, one of those plastic toy medical kits complete with a fake stethoscope. Carlisle had me reciting the symptoms of heart disease, how to identify them and even how to rectify them by the age of twelve, and at fourteen I was given a medical journal for my birthday.

My childhood revolved around three main things:

Go to an Ivy League – preferably Harvard or Dartmouth

Become a successful surgeon, hereby continuing a legacy set by Carlisle Cullen

Marry a rich socialite from one of Esme's many circles.

To say I was a disappointment to my adopted parents was an understatement. When I put my foot down on going down the route of medicine, Esme was particularly furious. Both shouted how ungrateful I was. How so many other boys would kill to be in my shoes – to have parents that pushed them to be ambitious, parents that did everything so that their child would reach that goal in the highest, most prestigious way.

Neither could empathise with my passion for music. It was my creative outlet, a way to release my emotions and put them into something positive. Besides that, it was also a way I could connect with Elizabeth. Elizabeth loved it when I played the piano for her. She would always get a little teary and have to leave the room. I didn't really understand this emotion when I was young but now it was clear – my love for music and playing instruments was something I got from _her._ While Esme and Carlisle could give me a family and any toy, piece of technology or video game that a kid could ask for – she was the person I inherited this talent from.

"Edward?"

My eyes opened slowly, meeting Rose's. I nearly roll my eyes as I take in her state of attire, as she is decked out a grey dress, black leather jacket and knee high boots. Where the fuck does she think she is? Partying at Times Square? Eclipse?

I bite back any insults remembering why I was here and not with Bella. _Bella._ Jesus, what I wouldn't do to have her beside me right now…

"Eddie!"

I looked at my adopted sister, "how is he?"

She heaved a sigh, running a hand through her blonde hair "it was just a scare. Mom says that he'll be up to the Gala next week."

I snorted, turning away from her "of course."

Even when her husband suffers from a heart attack scare, all Esme Cullen fucking cares about is her high society affairs and snobby ass friends.

"You're still coming?"

"Do I have any choice?"

Rosalie looks at me appraisingly; her look just confirms what I know already – that it will take something major for me missing the gala next week.

"You did promise Edward."

I growl, standing up and moving to stand in front of her. She stands a little straighter, and looks up at me without flinching. Our stand off is reminiscent of all the arguments we had growing up; Rose and I always have had difficulties in staying civil with one another. To me Rosalie was a spoilt bitch who loved no one except herself. She had her life laid out on a golden platter since the moment she could walk – become a top model, date some rich, handsome dick and live in his and our parent's shadow. What kind of life was that?

"You know I don't want to do this Rosalie. You know she's fucking blackmailing me."

She rolls her eyes, "Blackmail? Isn't that a bit strong Edward?"

I pull my hair "you know what it fucking is Rosalie!"

She looks wildly around, "Keep your voice down!" she hisses.

"Oh yes, we wouldn't want any one to think that we aren't some perfect, American family – would we?" I say, wrinkling my nose in disgust.

"Mom is right about you. You are such an ungrateful prick! Mom has given you your time out of the spotlight, she even invested in that cute bar that you run – the least you could do is come next week."

I've had enough of this. I didn't come here to get fucking laid into.

"Can I go see him?" I ask through gritted teeth.

Rosalie crosses her arms across her chest, glaring at me fiercely "yes. But of you fucking upset him Edward, I swear to God I will murder you."

I mock salute her, and hurry to the hospital room. Although I harboured some bitterness towards Carlisle due to his incessant pushing over being a doctor, he was tame in comparison to Esme. Plus, he was still family – I would never want to see him hurt.

As I reach the doorway of his room, I see Esme looking pristine as per usual in a light grey business suit and pearl necklace, bronze hair sitting neatly on her shoulders. She is speaking on her iPhone, probably releasing a statement to the papers. Fuck, couldn't that wait until morning?

I barely spare her a glance and walk into my adopted father's room. He looks perfectly well, sat up in the hospital bed, blonde hair combed and peppered with a few silver hairs. He looks stoic and bored, probably hating that he was the patient and not the doctor.

"Carlisle?"

He looks at me, a small smile gracing his features "well, well – the Prodigal's son returns."

I roll my eyes at him, picking his chart up and glancing over it. Every thing looks good. According to it, he suffered from loss of normal lung function leading to the heart receiving un-oxygenated blood.

I tut as I read it, "You should know than picking smoking back up again."

He snorts, "with your mother, a guy needs a cigarette every now and then."

"I get it. But you need to take better care of yourself. Wouldn't want to miss one of Esme's functions."

He chuckles as the sarcasm in my voice, and looks up at me wistfully.

"You would've made a great doctor."

I sigh, putting the chart back down. I don't need this shit right now.

Sensing my refusal to talk about the subject he continues, "how is the bar going?"

"Fine," I say defensively "New York Times rated us number one for Best Night Life in their newest feature."

"I saw," he nods pensively "I am proud of you. But isn't it about time that you fully pass the reigns to Emmett?"

I move towards the door "Fuck you Carlisle, I came here because I was worried about you – not because I wanted an inquisition."

"Don't swear." A snobby voice says from behind me.

"Esme."

She raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, "Anthony sweetheart, when are you going to learn that my name is 'mother' to you?"

I snigger, "you haven't been a mother to me for a very long time Esme. And when are you going to learn that my name is 'Edward'? Now if you'll excuse me –"

"You will be at the Gala next week, Anthony."

"Yes Esme."

"And don't bring the tramp with you."

I stop, whirling around, fury rolling off me in waves, much like I did with Rosalie - I stalk up to her.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I spit.

She smiles sweetly at me, not batting an eyelash "Rosalie told me you are dating some College student? Non-Ivy League no less? Now Edward, I have been extremely lenient with you and your impending career, but don't expect me to be as generous with this girl. If you want a girlfriend, I know plenty of highly respectable women who are perfect for you."

"This isn't the 1900s Esme" I seethe "you can't tell me who I can or cannot date. I am a twenty five year old man, and I will date anyone I fucking want. And I don't care if she's non-Ivy League! She's beautiful, intelligent and independent. She has more class than you in her pinkie finger. Back the fuck off Esme, or I swear to fucking God, you will _regret_ it."

I turn away leaving the room quickly – before I fucking hit her and get arrested– but not before I hear her last words…

"Don't mess with me, Anthony, otherwise _you'll_ regret it."


	11. Chapter 11

_**Disclaimer- all characters sadly belongs to the one and only Stephanie Meyer!**_

 _ **Hello wonderful humans! The eleventh chapter is here! I can't believe it's even got this far… I genuinely thought this story wouldn't get any reviews in the first chapter, but here we are!**_

 _ **Thank you all for your follows, favourites, recommendations and reviews, every time I get an email notification, I literally do a little dance! Every single one is so greatly appreciated, and I am sending all my love and prayers to all of you!**_

 _ **Now, I am promising that this time next week my next chapter will be out. I am saying this, because I have a huge essay to do in the upcoming weeks so a lot of my time and effort will be dedicated to that. However, I am not cruel enough to leave you hanging after this one, so I promise it will be out sooner rather than later.**_

 _ **Please let me know all your thoughts of this chapter in the reviews and if you have any questions please ask – I am happy to answer!**_

 _ **The song that I recommend you listen to for one… moment in particular is 'Stay With Me' by The Vitamin String Quartet.**_

 _ **Okay, here we go! Lots of love to you all and enjoy!xo**_

 _ **11.**_

 _ **BPOV**_

"Miss Swan! How is the speech coming along?"

I pause, waiting for Professor Banner to catch up.

"Good," I smile "It took a while to find inspiration but I'm on a roll at the moment. I'm actually going back to edit it now."

The speech was coming together nicely. After spending three days in a complete meltdown; agonising over what I should talk about, I feel like I have come up with a nice balance that resulted in a personal, relatable yet completely academic and sophisticated tone, appropriate for an audience of both my superiors and peers.

He grins at my confidence, "well if you need a second opinion, just email it to me through the University email address and I'll give it a look over."

"That would be great!" I enthuse, "how are the preparations for Saturday?"

Professor Banner's smile melts into a grimace, "there has been a few complications."

I furrow my brow in concern, "Oh?"

"Well between us Bella, we were supposed to have Benjamin Amun to come in as the guest speaker…"

"Benjamin Amun? _The_ Benjamin Amun?" I ask in complete awe.

Benjamin Amun is one of my favourite authors and poets. He came to fame with his first book 'Fire and Wind' around six years ago, sweeping the International Best Sellers list, and becoming one of the youngest authors to ever become a millionaire. At thirty-three of age, Benjamin has eight best sellers under his belt – two of which have been made into Oscar winning adaptations. To say Benjamin Amun was a genius was an understatement.

"It wasn't easy to get a hold of him. Him and his wife Tia have been in Egypt for the last three months on an 'extended vacation'. When we finally got him to agree to speak at the Ball… well. You can imagine our joy. But…"

"But?"

Professor Banner's face scrunches up into an expression of pure displeasure "apparently he got a better offer."

"From where?" I wonder. Harvard perhaps? Or maybe another Ivy League…

"There's another event going on in the city Saturday. At the St Regis."

"That's so frustrating. It would have been incredible to listen to him speak."

"I know," he says with equal bitterness "we had him booked for months as well, but according to his agent, the Gala he is attending is being held by 'close family friends'."

He runs a hand through his black hair, "Thankfully, Dr. Molina has secured Alistair Adley as our new guest speaker – a miracle believe me."

I nod. I have heard of Alistair Adely as well – although he was relatively unknown in comparison to Benjamin. Alistair was a British linguist and academic, who has made some revolutionary breakthroughs in the English language. I couldn't help but hope however, that they wouldn't mention who the guest speaker originally was – it would be a massive disappointment otherwise.

"Anyway, on that note – I am off. Email me if you need another set of eyes though Bella."

"Yes, Sir."

As we part ways, my phone vibrates in my pocket – making me automatically stop. My heart hammers in my chest, at the thought of who could be calling.

I hadn't heard Edward's voice for a week now, but I have received few short but sweet texts. Every night, he would text me an adorable 'good night' message, along with beautiful words voicing his longing to see me.

He agreed – albeit very reluctantly – to give me space, so I could finish my speech and also act as a crutch to Alice as she comes to grips with her pregnancy. My heart ached to hear his voice, to see his face and to hold him in my arms. I have spent most of the week chasing sleep, as I wake up from dreams of us together. Loving each other.

It didn't take long for me to realise that I had forgiven him for whatever lie he had told me in the past, but that hasn't deterred me from my decision to focus first and foremost on the speech – a speech that many potential employers will be listening to. As soon as it is over however, nothing will stop me from going to him.

With this in mind I look hesitantly and admittedly, hopefully, at the caller id-

 _ **Dad Calling…**_

I cannot help but deflate slightly from the words, but soon a happy grin replaces my disappointed one.

"Hey Dad!"

"Bells!" A gruff voice says, a smile evident in his tone.

"How's it going at the station?"

"Y'know Forks, Bells" Charlie says good naturedly "nothing but the odd vandal and rare shoplifter. Mind you, why anyone would want to steal from Newton's Outfitter's is beyond me…"

"So you've been playing cards with Deputy Mark and Waylon all morning then." I summarise with a snicker.

"Hey!" He chuckles "We did manage to catch a streaker."

"Who the hell would streak in Forks?" I mean the place was under a constant cover of clouds and rain.

"Some poor sod called Colin from La Push. Apparently he was about to transform into his wolf form. The boy must have been high."

I outright laugh at that. I swear to God, it was times like this when I really miss the absurdity that is Forks, Washington.

"Anyway, how's the Big Apple? How is the speech going?"

Charlie had been ecstatic when he found out I would be delivering the annual speech. According to my stepmother Sue, he had been telling the whole town about how 'clever' his daughter is and 'how she must've gotten his grandfather's brains.' His bragging was reminiscent of when I had returned to Forks at seventeen and everyone knew my name before I even said it.

"It's going really well. I'm just tying up a few loose ends, but it will definitely be all done by Saturday."

We continued to chat about Saturday, and what the content of my speech entailed.

"Sounds good Bella. I'm so proud of you."

My cheeks brighten at his praise –the exact colour he was probably turning right now, "Thanks dad, you have no idea how much that means to me."

He clears his throat at my admission, most likely a little embarrassed but touched.

"Well, I was thinking… because I can't be there and to show you how proud I am…"

"Oh no, daaad" I groan, "What've you been up to?"

"I uh… well I may have transferred some money into your bank account."

I halt, shocked.

"You what?"

"Isabella Marie Swan, you never ask for anything. You worked your ass off for that scholarship so I already pay the minimum of your tuition, you have a job and your grades continue to amaze me. Let me do this one for you. Go buy yourself some fancy shamancy dress, and knock people off their feet."

Tears fill my eyes, but I blink them away.

"Daddy…" My voice wavers, "what about Leah? She'll be off to college soon. And then there's looking after yourself and Sue…"

"You are my baby girl Bella. Sue and I have got Leah covered, and don't you dare worry about us. Don't complain about this, for me."

"Thank you so much dad," I say softly, my voice getting lost in the cacophony of noise that surrounds me as I continue down the street.

"Anytime Bella" He coughs, effectively bringing the emotional moment to a close. "Now, how's this boy of yours?"

For the second time, my cheeks heat up. I told Charlie about Edward during our last phone call about two weeks into dating him. Charlie didn't have any idea about our… disagreement however, as he was too distracted by the news of the ball during our last chat.

"He's… okay."

"You sure about that?" he asks suspiciously, noticing my reticence.

I sigh, "we are kind of taking a temporary break at the moment…"

"What? Why? I thought you liked this boy! Did he do anything to hurt you? Shit. I knew I should have done a background check on him…"

"Dad! He hasn't done anything. Okay, he did but, I – well, I kind of overreacted. We are just having a breather so I'm not distracted on Saturday."

He harrumphed, "what he do?"

"There was a… misunderstanding," I say carefully "he didn't tell me about his past and then I found out about it and got a bit frustrated and well – left."

I wait for further expression of indignation towards Edward, but instead an amused chuckle filters through.

"What you laughing at?" I wonder in disbelief.

"I'm not laughing" he chortles, "its just such a… _man_ thing to do."

"What do you mean?"

"Look Bella, men… we can be stupid creatures. We don't really know how to communicate how we feel or any of the important stuff. Well, most of us don't anyway. Now, take this from a man who has been divorced then single for twenty odd years, this Edgar, Edmund – whatever – probably wanted to tell you about his past, but he just didn't have the right words for it. And if it is _that_ important, then the likelihood is, it's something that he isn't very comfortable with and wants to protect you from."

I digest my father's musings, completely stunned. Charlie has always been a man of few words, but what he says sounds so thoughtful and made so much sense.

"However," Charlie interjects "that doesn't mean that I won't bring out the rifle when he comes over."

I giggle over the image of Edward, cowering behind me as my dad, complete with his police badge and porno moustache, edges towards him with a gun.

"Thanks dad. That actually helps a lot."

"Don't get me wrong, the guy probably needs a kick up the ass. But maybe take it a little easy on him."

I smile softly, "I will. Love you dad. Thank you for everything."

"I love you too Bells."

…

"Hmmm…"

I ignored Alice's thoughtful utterance, clicking away on my computer.

"Ooh…"

I read over my final paragraph, analysing the syntax and word choice with perfect clarity. _Maybe I should change that…_

"Mmm…"

I look up in exasperation. We are both sat in the living room on opposite sides of the sofa; riveted by our respective laptops.

She seems completely engrossed by whatever she is looking at, so I return to my speech. _Now, to conclude…_

"Ugh."

I slam my computer down, "Jesus Alice!"

Alice's head snaps up, "what?"

"Can you stop muttering? I'm trying to work here!"

"But Bella!" Alice whines, "I am going through a huge dilemma here!"

I take a huge, cleansing breath; searching the depths of my being for some ounce of patience. In a vague attempt to appear supportive, I give her an encouraging smile – although, it comes out more like a grimace.

"What?"

"I can't find a vibrator that is even _close_ to the perfection of Jasper's dick."

 _You can't hit her Bella. Remember – she's pregnant._

"Wouldn't it make more sense for you to stop avoiding Jasper and just have his actual dick?"

"But I can't! I can't have sex with him when he doesn't know I'm… y'know. It will just taint our magical lovemaking and make me feel guilty!"

"Then just fucking tell him?" I reason, throwing my hands up in frustration.

"But even _then_ he won't have sex with me! He'll probably say he hates me for ruining his life and leave me. So, lets live in this blissful ignorance, and just help me fucking find a vibrator! I haven't had sex in two weeks and I am _dying._ "

I felt so sorry for Jasper. He had stopped at the apartment three or four times this week, with flowers and flasks of homemade soup. Alice had told him that she had the bug and didn't want him to catch it. But I had seen the scepticism in his eyes on his most recent visit, when I made up yet another excuse to why he couldn't see her, the poor guy.

Shaking myself from my thoughts, I place my computer down on the coffee table and sit next to her.

"Now, this one is about the right size," she comments, pointing to a generously sized plastic cock "but the thickness isn't right. Then there's this one, but I don't really want a block colour. I kind of like the sparkly ones…"

"Oh, Jasper's dick sparkles?"

She looks up condescendingly "of course not Bella. But we have this ongoing joke about how he looks like one of those sparkly vampires from those films I liked when I was a kid."

"Okay – so let me get this straight. We are looking for an above average, sparkly, thick vibrator."

"Above average?" Alice asks affronted by the description.

I point to the first vibrator she had shown me, "it's that size?"

"Yeah…"

"It's not as big as Edward's."

She gasps, looking at me shocked, "He's _bigger?_ Fuck! How are you still walking?"

I had told Alice all about that night after she had revealed all about her pregnancy.

To say that she was pissed off that I didn't tell her straight away is an understatement, but most of her anger was based on the fact that she was one of the reasons that I hadn't spoken to Edward face to face since that night…

" _So, wait a minute. After_ weeks _of waiting and wondering what his deal is with his family, when he finally agrees to fucking tell you – you leave and refuse to be told the truth until you've gotten your school work done, and made sure that I'm not still raging about the fact that I got knocked up?"_

" _Uh… yes?"_

" _Are you fucking kidding me?"_

" _No…"_

 _Her silver eyes flared up from dumbfounded confusion to pure, unadulterated anger._

" _Bella – you have always put other people before yourself. Then you finally meet the love of the life, and he when he wants to tell you something that obviously bothers him, at long last – THEN you decide that your selflessness must come into play and put a stopper to something that makes you truly and deliriously happy?"_

" _Alice…"_

" _Bella, I am not joking. I am fucking furious! You don't get it. I wasn't joking when I said he's the Blair to your Chuck. He's your fricking soul mate and everyone with eyes can see it!"_

" _Don't you think you are exaggerating?" I say meekly._

" _You need to open your eyes Bella! Look, I appreciate you looking out for me and I totally respect the fact that you're a modern, independent woman who is willing to put her education and career before a man. But Edward is your destiny. I can see it in the way he looks at you. In the way you look at him. And I am not being cliché or over exaggerating or any other bullshit excuse you are trying to come up with right now! Get your head out of your ass, and go get your man!"_

 _I sit up, looking her head on. She just doesn't get it!_

" _I will Alice. I love him more than anything – of course, I am not giving up on him. But I need to do this myself. I am not trying to prove that I am this strong woman and I don't need him. I think it's abundantly clear that I need him more than anything in this world. But everything – my energy, my concentration has been on Edward, to the point where he has become my whole world. I need to take a breather and concentrate on other things that are important to me, and yes – that is you and my schoolwork and my family. This is me, trying to create a healthy balance without any of his issues clouding my judgement."_

After that she kind of eased up on me a bit, but she made no secret of the fact that she was totally Team Edward.

As if to confirm this statement, she gives me the side eye – "speaking of Edward, when are you finally going to put the boy out of his misery?"

"Once the speech is done. He is at a family event, but I'll just ask him to meet me at the apartment or something…"

"No!"

I gaze at her curiously, "No? I thought you wanted me to see him?"

She rolls her eyes, "Of course I want you to see him. But just text him after the speech and ask him to pick you up once you're finished. That way you'll be all dressed up and look totally gorgeous, and he'll forget all about what an idiot you both have been."

"Hello? I haven't been an idiot! I am making a mature decision that will ultimately help our relationship in the future."

"Idiot." She mutters, but I don't bother to refute her.

My phone buzzes making us pause. I glance at it, and an instant smile forms on my face-

 _ **Hey baby, Emmett is sick of my moping and has threatened to castrate me… is that enough motivation for you to come back to me? Jokes aside, I miss you like crazy. Hope the speech is going well though, thinking of you always –E xx.**_

I sigh longingly; and suddenly the ball can't come quick enough.

Seeing my reaction Alice looks more sympathetically "neither of you can stay away from each other long B. You need each other."

I nod sombrely.

"But to my previous point," she says in a brighter tone, trying to cheer me up "what are you going to wear?"

"I haven't got a clue. Charlie gave me money to get a dress but I have no idea what to get…"

"Let me get this straight… we have money that was purely given to be spent on a beautiful dress, with only two days until your ball?"

I nod.

"Then what are we still doing here? Lets going shopping!" 

…

Shopping with Alice is lethal. If I ever wanted to live a slow and cruel death, this would be perfect. The girl was a fucking monster.

We had been everywhere. To places that I couldn't even afford, but which Alice insisted upon anyway. Apparently – they would set the bar on the style and quality we would want. Whatever the hell that means. All I want is to get out of Dior and into a place that I can actually purchase from, and go home to my wonderful bed and soft pyjamas.

"Bella! Try this one on!" Alice squeals, passing a long midnight blue gown to me.

"Excellent choice Miss Brandon," the attendant says in praise. I think her name is Jessica. She is probably laughing at us right now. I mean, what on earth are two students doing in fucking Christian Dior?

"Alice, this is so out of my budget…"

"Humour me Bella."

The dress is made from a velvety material and looks to be the colour of the night sky.

I slide into it, and it fits me like a glove. It's long sleeve, emphasising the slenderness of my arms. The material clings to my body, highlighting the curve of my breasts and creating the illusion of an hourglass figure, small waist and shapely hips. It's a figure that I have never really noticed before.

The fitted nature of the dress continues down my thighs before meeting my knee, and subtly moving outwards. There is a slit from the bottom towards the beginning of the flaring material creating an edge of sexiness as it gives a glimpse of my ghostly white legs. The classy yet sexy effect is made all the more palpable as the dress is completely backless, displaying the smooth lines of my back. The colour of the dress stands stark against my pale skin almost illuminating it.

I stare at the dress, seeing that in the light there is a clear shimmer making it almost the night sky. It is completely gorgeous, and I feel so… beautiful.

But shit its so out of my budget, over five hundred dollars to be exact.

"Bella, let me see, let me see!"

I inhale deeply, and walk out of the dressing room, holding my head up high. This is the only time I will get to wear this dress – might as well enjoy it.

"Holy shit" Alice breathes, holding her breath.

I stand up on the round platform, in front of tall mirrors that show the dress from every angle.

Even Jessica in all her grey-designer-suit glory seems to be speechless as she watches me twist and turn in the dress.

Alice circles around me, taking it in "it looks like it's tailor made for you," she says reverently "Your figure has always been to die for, but whoa… and your ass! Jesus Bella, you are hot!"

I blush, smoothing non-existent creases down the dress. The material feels heavenly against my palms, smooth and opulent.

"You have to get it" Alice says.

I turn to her; my eyes round like saucers "Alice I can't afford it. And I am definitely not asking Charlie. He's already given me five hundred dollars, and that's enough to get me a beautiful dress…"

"But this dress is perfect for you" she reasons, "I mean, it looks like it is literally made for you! The fit, the colour… Everything!"

"It doesn't matter. I haven't got the money."

Alice turns away from me decisively to Jessica "we'll take it."

I don't know who is more stunned – her or me.

"But-"

"I'll pay the rest."

"You will not!" I splutter "Alice! You can't! Please…"

She walks to me, and takes my hands between hers "Bella you have done so much for me. You were my first friend in New York and the only person who has ever looked past all my wealth and the fact that my parents are successful. You are also the first person to ever really encourage me to follow my dream and stick at fashion. And, even when you had a big argument with the love of life, you put your problems to the side to take care of me. It is the least I can do, to pay for you to look absolutely beautiful on Saturday. I love you B, you're my best friend."

A tear escapes down her cheek, and she swipes it away "stupid hormones."

I giggle, and hold her hands tighter "I don't even know how I will pay you back."

She beams at me "just continue being my bestest friend… and maybe one day you can do me a favour."

"Anything."

We fall into each other's arms and laugh together, completely and utterly carefree in that one moment.

…

 **Saturday, the night of the ball...**

 _ **Good luck Angel, I miss you more than anything and wish you nothing but the best for tonight. I wish I could be there to support you, but know that you are the only thing that is in my thoughts. –E xx**_

My heart flutters, and I can feel myself shaking from anticipation. Tonight, we would put everything behind us and start anew. After a full week of separation, my whole being was desperate to be reunited with his, and I had come to realise how much I love him.

All the nerves on my body are set on edge, not at the prospect of public speaking but that at the end of the rainbow _he_ would be there. I only hoped that he would forgive me for my total idiocy. Although he hasn't verbally shown any animosity towards me, I couldn't help but feel anxious. I've just left him hanging all this week, but I have to think – if I had cracked on my decision to have space, my speech may not have reached the standard it was supposed to. I needed this time to myself.

"Raise your chin."

I obediently tilt my face as Alice critically analyses my make up. She delicately touches my cheeks with the brush, dusting across them softly but purposely.

She pulls away completely, looking at my face "Okay! You are officially complete!"

"So its safe to look in the mirror now?" I tease lightly, Alice had removed all mirrors within my proximity since the start of my make over. Apparently it would "totally ruin the effect" if I had gotten an accidental glance.

It was really a good thing that I trusted Alice inexplicably otherwise I'd be scared shitless.

"Okay, close your eyes!" she claps her hands together.

I huff, but close them. She takes my hands and carefully leads me down the hallway. I walk slowly yet deliberately, knowing that the heels I was wearing were practically death traps. They were a pair from Alice's Jimmy Choo collection, and it was a real testament to how much faith she has in me. Alice was terrifyingly protective over her shoes.

And rightly so! I am wearing a pair of five-inch strappy sandals, covered in glittering silver. When Alice gave them to me, she was practically shaking… "These are my Lang sandals Bella… _Lang._ Please look after them."

"Right! You can look in three… two… one!"

She uncovered my eyes, and I found myself standing in front of a floor length mirror in Alice's mirror.

I stared at the girl in front of me, because – she couldn't be me.

The dress, as it was before – absolutely incredible in everyway. I couldn't believe how much it complimented the curves and lines of the girl's body. It looked even better now, as she stood at a taller height with the help of Alice's heels.

The girl in the mirror's skin was a creamy colour, and shimmered in the light. The slight bronzing of the eyelids and coating of mascara made her eyes pop, and made them look like chocolate rather than the usual shade of muddy brown.

Her lips were a dark red, and highlighted the shape of her mouth – the curve of her lower lip and heart-shaped upper lip.

Her hair is pulled back into a low ponytail. I turn to the side, and it falls like a waterfall down her back, in gorgeous, shiny curls. Alice had also strategically placed diamante clips amongst the curls, adding a bit of sparkle. The hairstyle showed off the length of her neck, and the long, faux diamond-string earrings. A few tendrils curled around her face, in a gentle and romantic manner.

Everything was beyond perfect – from the make up and hair, to the dress and homemade French manicure. I wiggled my fingers loving the large sapphire jewel that Alice and I had bought from a novelty store for a mere five dollars. Although it was labelled costume jewellery, paired with the quality of the dress, it almost looked luxurious.

"Alice." I say in a broken whisper.

"Please don't cry," she pleads, even though there are a few errant tears trailing down on her own face "I put on waterproof mascara but I can't promise anything else with the rest of your make up."

"I love it! I don't look a thing like myself!"

She shook her head, "of course you look like yourself! You really don't see how gorgeous you are Bella. I have just emphasised it a little. It didn't take a lot, I had an excellent canvas."

I grin, "thank you so much…"

"Edward is going to flip when he sees you."

"I hope so," I look back into the mirror, feeling the desperate need to gnaw at my lip.

"Of course he will! Now, lets get you to that ball!"

…

The event is being held at the Kimpton Hotel. Walking into the Ventana Ballroom, I am completely astounded by the beauty it exudes; from the sixteen foot windows that showcased the spectacular views Manhattan had to offer, to the round tables that are dotted around the room, individually decorated with strings of twinkling lights that created an inherently idyllic atmosphere and picturesque scene. It was all the more discernible by the small band of violinists and cello players on stage.

Upon walking in, it was difficult to digest the crowds of people. The people who I would be presenting my speech to…

Fuck. Suddenly I am hit with the enormity of the situation. Shiiiiiit! I am going to be public speaking, to all of these people! It's like being thrown back into high school on the day of my Valedictorian speech, but that seemed so irrelevant and small in comparison.

I take in a shaky breath, attempting to calm myself down. Damn it! I should've forced Alice to come! She refused under the silly guise that she had to keep up her sick act for Jasper. I guess with social media, it's difficult to hide your whereabouts these days…

When the breathing exercises don't work, I distract myself by further examining the room. Everyone is dressed impeccably with the men in identical dark suits and customary bowties and the women in gorgeous, flowing dresses.

I would be happy to simply stand here gazing at my surroundings. I have always enjoyed people watching (in a totally non-creepy way). I guess that was the writer inside of me. I liked to weave together unrealistic background stories based on people's clothing or imagine their lives through their expressions and stance. Alice was particularly entertained by this odd personality trait.

"Isabella?"

I turn and find Professor Banner and Dr Molina standing off to the side with a tall gentleman.

Professor Banner smiles kindly at me as I shake his hand politely, "you look lovely this evening."

"Thank you Sir."

"As you know, this is Dr Molina" he gestures to my sometime-lecturer who wears his customary black-framed glasses, and polka-dot tie that totally juxtaposes his smart black suit. I shake his hand, internally giggling.

"And this," Professor Banner says purposefully "is Stefan Ardelean. Mr Ardelean, this is our student speaker this evening, Isabella Swan."

I freeze briefly at the name, and I feel my eyes widen slightly. I recognise it instantly. As a woman who has dreamed of going into journalism/editing from a young age, people such as Stefan Ardelean are practically celebrities.

Stefan Ardelean is the head editor of 'US TODAY', one of the most prestigious news companies in the country. They are highly respected within the community of journalism for no-nonsense attitude and classy stories that are totally above of the bullshit mainstream media of today. You don't see stories about what a random celebrity was wearing or whom they are sleeping with in 'US TODAY'.

Stefan and his brother Vladimir (weird name, I know) migrated from Romania to the US when they were twenty years old, with the ambition to set up a newspaper that stands independent from the stupid stories that seem to dominate the news today. And they totally succeeded.

Now with Stefan at sixty three and Vladimir at sixty one, it was widely speculated that they would step down from their positions, but with neither man having a family of their own – some wondered who would be the next to take over such a business.

Yet with Stefan in front of me now it was clear to see that the man had a good few years left in him. In a pristine dark grey tux with silver tie that perfectly matched his combed hair, Stefan Ardelean had an almost regal air about him.

 _Holy Shit, I am going to be speaking in front of Stefan Ardelean!_

 _Breathe, breathe, BREATHE BELLA!_

 _Relax._

"Mr Ardelean," I say with as much confidence I can muster, shaking his hand firmly "it's an honour to meet you, Sir."

He looks down his crooked nose at me, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips "Miss Swan, I must say – the pleasure is mine. Your superiors have had nothing but praise for you."

I smile, my cheeks warming under his compliment, "They are too kind."

Professor Banner laughs heartily "you are too modest, Bella. You are well on your way to a first class degree, and a vast majority of the work she has written is bordering academic publication."

Stefan looks impressed, "Are you prepared for the speech this evening?"

I swallow down the nerves that continue to bubble the pit of my stomach, and stare at him squarely in the eye "I believe so. It was an absolute honour to be nominated to deliver the speech, let alone chosen. Albeit was difficult to capture my passion for English in so little words, but hopefully I will be able to inspire my fellow peers to carry on progressing and building upon their degree and highlight to my superiors my dedication to the subject."

An amused sparkle appears in his hazel eyes, "Oh I have very little doubt in you Miss Swan. Perhaps afterwards we could discuss a possible internship? We at US TODAY would be absolutely delighted to have someone of your passion and intelligence with us."

I subtly rub my clammy palms against my dress, my mouth going dry at the prospect of an internship. "I would love nothing more Mr Ardelean."

"Wonderful!" he exclaim, "I shall discuss further details with you once I have conferred with my brother." He rolls his eyes "sadly Vladimir could not be here tonight."

"Oh, is all well with him?" Dr Molina inserts.

Stefan chuckles, "oh yes. He was invited to the Cullen event over at the St Regis this evening. The Cullen family have been trying to appear on our pages for years now."

"Ah yes. The Cullen event... Benjamin Amun is speaking there, isn't he?" Professor Banner says, and I try not to laugh at his blatant distaste.

"Why he would want to speak at such an event rather than talking to aspiring writers is beyond me," Stefan says with equal disregard "The Cullens believe themselves to be the equivalent of Britain's Royal Family, whereas they are more along the status of the Kardashians. Heaven forbid."

"How long have you known the Cullens?" I ask intrigued.

Stefan looks thoughtful; "oh I have had links with the Cullens since I first moved to New York. When our business first started out, we approached the Cullens for a feature, but we were refused, as we were relatively unknown then. Then as we grew as a brand, suddenly we were golden," he smirks "by which time our interest in the Cullen family had diminished. The only redeemable quality of the family is the son."

"Anthony Cullen?"

He grins at me "you are very curious, Miss Swan. I respect that – its qualities like that, that we admire at 'US TODAY'. And yes – Anthony Cullen... I met Anthony just before he disappeared from the spotlight. A delightful young man! Exceedingly intelligent, articulate, engaging; he was a credit to his parents, and an anomaly in comparison to their 'mightier than thou' attitude."

"He sounds wonderful, but isn't he making an appearance at the St Regis tonight?"

"I believe it is the only reason why Vladimir is at the event."

Slowly we find ourselves falling into other subjects; discussing my time at NYU, my ambitions and beliefs. By the end of my conversation, I am quietly confident that I have left a good impression upon Stefan – I just hope that he holds up his offer of an internship…

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you would all find your way to your seats for the starter."

I shake Stefan's hand again, as well as my lecturers (sharing a knowing smile with Professor Banner) and make my way to the table. I am sat with third years, most of whom I am friendly with and others I am not familiar with at all. It's so odd that even after sharing a lecture room for three years with people – you still have no idea who some are. I guess that's the biggest difference between University and High School.

"Bella!"

I grin as my friend from class – Heidi, slides in the spare seat to my right, her caramel hair sits on top of her head in masses of curls and she wears a typical Heidi dress- tight and red with cut outs showing lots of skin. Heidi has never been shy about her body, and nor should she – she had the stature of a model.

"Thank god! I thought they would seat me beside Yorkie or something" she shudders.

I giggle, "I am surprised you even made it Heidi."

Heidi hardly ever made it to our lectures, typically because she was doing the walk of shame or too hung over. But I adore her all the same.

"I was even more surprised that I was invited! I swear Banner has it out for me" she laughs, "but besides that… you look incredible Bella, I absolutely love that dress! I swear to God, literally so many people looked at you when you walked in. I'm jealous!"

I blush, surprised "Don't be silly! You look amazing, as always."

"You're too sweet! Are you nervous for the speech? I was totally not surprised when I found out it was you."

 _Breathe._

I shrug, increasingly embarrassed by the flood of compliments "I am just honoured to do it! But yeah, I'm feeling a bit nervous!"

"You'll do great."

Crab cakes are placed in front of us, delicious smells wafting.

"So is anyone catching your eye?" Heidi asks conversationally.

I shake my head straight away, because where else would I look when I have a boyfriend as beautiful as Edward?

"Well, I have got my sights set of that cutie," she points over my shoulder.

I turn, and nearly fall out of seat as I catch sight of her flavour of the night, "Demetri?"

Demetri is one of the bodyguards at Eclipse. I have had an odd conversation with D during one of the many nights I have spent behind the bar hanging out with Edward but Emmett usually dominated those chats with his large personality and boisterous jokes.

D, although being practically the same size as Em is surprisingly quiet and shy, although the more time I had been spending at Eclipse, the more he had relaxed around me. Edward told me on one occasion, that Demetri prefers to keep to himself when with strangers, and never voluntarily gives out information about himself. He seems like the type who would prefer to observe than talk, which makes him good at his job as a security guard.

But regardless of this fact, I'm still surprised that I didn't know he attended NYU.

"You know him?" Heidi asks excitedly, "he's _fit._ All chiselled features, bulging muscles and blonde curls – reckon you can introduce me? Please B!"

I look over at Demetri, who is engaging in conversation with a lanky guy with long hair.

"I'll be back."

I wander over to the table, nodding and smiling at a few people who wave at me.

"Dem?"

Demetri snaps his head in my direction, "B!"

He stands, hugging me – shocking the hell out of me.

"Hey" I giggle breathlessly.

"You look amazing."

"Thanks Dem" I grin.

"You don't understand how happy I am to see you."

I laugh harder, because I think I do – he has never been this excited around me before.

"I didn't know you study at NYU!"

"Oh I don't," he chuckles "this is my brother, Afton. He's studying Spanish and French." he gestures to the lanky boy. On closer inspection, they have the same nose and eye colour, but other than that they are chalk and cheese.

"Hey!"

"Hi," he smiles timidly at me, not unlike his brother when I was first introduced to him.

"So when are you going to put E out of his misery Bella?" Demetri says, sensing Afton's awkwardness.

I laugh nervously, "I'm actually planning on seeing him tonight."

"Thank God. I swear, he's been a nightmare this week, he's scaring away all the customers because he's constantly sad."

His words sound like an exaggeration, but his expression is nothing but serious – making my shoulders slump in concern.

"He sounds okay from his messages." I whisper.

He smiles sadly, "he's trying to protect you. Look, whatever he did – it must've been bad because everyone knows how gone over you are for one another. But don't let one mistake ruin it. He is a fucking mess without you."

I nod whilst trying to digest the information he has given me. I know you can't really understand the tone of a text message, but he sounded so reassuring…

"I'll speak to him," I say firmly.

"Good."

As if on cue, I can feel Heidi's green gaze drilling a hole into my skin "Oh, um, Dem? My friend Heidi, she would really like to meet you…"

He instantly reverts to his coy demeanour.

"Oh, uh – really? Who?"

I look back and wave at Heidi, who waves in mock shyness back.

Demetri openly gapes at her, which doesn't surprise me at all. Heidi has her fair share of admirers with her caramel waves that compliment her golden skin and jade colour eyes, and a body to die for.

"Wow," He mutters under his breathe.

"Do you want me to introduce you?"

"I – well, um… I really shouldn't leave my brother, I am his plus one…"

"Don't worry D, I can keep myself entertained" Afton claims hurriedly. I smile at gratefully. I definitely didn't want to face the wrath of Heidi.

"Come on Dem." I weave my arm through his, and lead him to Heidi who's smile goes brighter and brighter as we move closer. I giggle a bit at the scared look on Demetri's face, but while a bigger part of me is amused by the whole situation, I am worried that she would tear this sweet man apart.

"D, this is my sometimes-classmate Heidi Young. Heids, this is my friend Demetri Bewley."

Heidi stands up, showing off all her 5'10 glory, "pleasure to meet you Demetri."

D looks absolutely starstruck.

I don't bother listening to the rest of the conversation, choosing to sit back in my seat to converse with the other sitters at the table.

The first course moves to the second and before I know it, dessert is being cleared away as people settle for the speeches.

Listening to them, the build up of nerves reach their climax and I feel hot. Shit, I should've worn a dress like Heidi's! I feel like I am burning up and my stomach rolls. I had barely eaten my food, instead sipping on water.

As Alistair ties up his speech, quoting Noam Chomsky, I can feel people's eyes on me.

I pluck my index cards from my clutch and shakily shuffle them. I know the vast majority of it off by heart, but I am not taking any risks.

"Now, please warmly welcome our last speaker of the evening – Miss Isabella Swan."

Squaring my shoulders, I rise from my seat and smile as I walk to the stage. Alice's words from earlier run through my mind as I walk to the platform, towards Professor Banner… _One foot in front of the other, shoulders back, head up, smile._

By the time I am standing in front of the microphone, I already feel like I have run a marathon. I suck in a breath, my eyes running over the hundreds of faces that stares up at me expectantly.

Then the doors open softly.

It was so quiet and subtle that no one even looks over… except me.

And there he is.

Edward.

 _He came._

He looks incredible, in a classic black tux and black bowtie, the colour standing out starkly against his pale skin and bright hair.

His eyes meet mine and he nods, sending a beautiful, encouraging smile my way.

Then as if by magic, all my nerves go away. I can't explain it. It was as if I had been unconsciously awaiting his arrival. And now he's here. Leaning against a marble column in the shadowy area at the back of the room – supporting me.

All of this happens within a matter of seconds, and then the words just fall from my lips effortlessly.

I forget all about my cards, and make eye contact with people, using my hands to emphasise my points.

I talk about my love for English from a young child.

I tell them how I would immerse myself in literature, as it was a form of escapism.

I speak about how my degree has been an outlet for creativity.

I throw in quotes that weren't even apart of my original speech, but somehow make sense and add a whole new depth to what I talk about. I can fucking taste the passion I have on my lips.

And all the while, I don't think about the hundreds of people who are listening to me. I don't think about Stefan Ardelean who is somewhere in the crowd – the man with the key to my future.

I bare my heart to them, but all I think is – I am baring it to _Edward._

And that's all that matters.

When I am done, it's like a weight has been lifted off my chest and I feel so light. All I see is Edward, and all I hear is my heart hammering in my ears.

Then the thundering applause comes.

I see people standing up, clapping heavily – fucking Stefan Ardelean is standing up!

But all I want is Edward.

I step down and Professor Banner rushes over to me.

"Bella, that was stunning. So impassioned and fervid! Absolutely beautiful, I cannot think of a better note to end on. Mr Ardelean has even asked to see you're your transcript! You have a bright future ahead of you, Miss Swan."

The words barely register, so I just nod and smile.

"Thank you Sir."

He pats my arm, and I carry on walking.

I think I am stopped at least a dozen times before I reach Edward. It's like someone is trying to delay this moment, but nothing will tear me away from him again.

When I finally stand in front of him, there is very little breath left within me.

Up close, he doesn't look like my Edward.

Perhaps it's the clothes; the expensive, tailor made suit that fits him amazingly well. Maybe it's the expensive watch he wears on his wrist that is completely foreign to me.

But I know it's the black circles that are noticeable around his eyes. I move so we are practically chest-to-chest and trace my index finger around the bruises. His emerald eyes gaze at me with so much adoration, that my heart melts.

"You look so tired."

"And you look absolutely exquisite." He whispers in that husky, deep voice that I love so much.

I sniff, "Alice is talented."

"She didn't do anything, this is all you."

"I missed you so much" I whisper, dropping both of my hands to his chest, just over his heart.

"Oh baby," he says, sounding strained "you don't understand how much I have missed you."

He puts both hands on my waist, pulling me closer to him – too close to be deemed appropriate in public – but I couldn't care a less.

He places his forehead on mine, our noses touching.

"I can't believe you're here."

"I couldn't miss your speech Angel, I know how much you worked on that thing and how much it meant to you. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"But your family-"

"Will have to get over it. Nothing will stand in the way of us again. I am so glad that I made it – baby, you were _unbelievable._ What you said – it was so raw and inspiring. I think I saw a few people tear up at one point. I am so fucking proud of you."

My heart swells, and I can't stop the single tear that falls down my cheek.

He swipes it away with his thumb, "I couldn't believe you were mine as you stood up there. And that dress – shit, baby, are you even aware of how fucking beautiful you are?"

I still can't believe he's here. I run my hands up and down his body, "I'll never leave you like that again. Ever."

His hands grip me a little tighter, "I will never let you leave again."

I am vaguely aware that the violins are playing, and so is Edward.

"Would you do me the honour of dancing with me?"

"I would love to… but I can't really dance. Like properly."

He smiles at me with that crooked smile. The smile that makes him, beyond all the tired eyes and expensive clothes- my Edward again.

"I just want to hold you."

I nod, not bothering to further argue and allow him to lead me to the centre of the dance floor.

There are only two other couples dancing, but all we see is each other, and it doesn't matter if we are making a scene. All that matters is this moment.

The tune is familiar, and I place it as 'Stay with Me' by the British singer Sam Smith.

He raises me slightly and I squeak as I feel his feet beneath my toes. I automatically fall through time to my childhood when I would dance on Charlie's feet around the living room, my childish giggles echoing around as my dad chuckles.

I look up at Edward, my right hand in his and left hand on his shoulder whilst his other is wrapped around my waist.

"Am I hurting you?" I say, staring deeply into his. God, I have missed his eyes. Those emerald orbs speckled with gold that shine with… love?

"No."

There are no other words spoken as we twirl around the dance floor. Edward's ballroom skills from private school in full effect as he moves with such grace and beauty. We communicate through our gazes, which never break as we dance.

 _I missed you._

 _I missed you too._

 _I was lost without you._

 _I couldn't bear it without you._

 _Never leave me again._

 _Never._

 _Stay with me._

 _Always._

As the song continues, Edward's face slowly moves towards mine.

The gap between our faces grows smaller and I decide to take the final push, gently placing my lips against his.

It's reminiscent of our first kiss.

What is it with us with kissing and dancing?

But unlike our first, this one is full of promise – there is no wonderment whether this is our one and only opportunity. There is nothing but love.

The kiss is also a lot briefer and with no tongues, due to the time and place. It is just petal-like, tender lips.

Yet that doesn't make it any less perfect.

Our lips move together carefully, reacquainting with one another.

As we move away from each other, we continue to hold the other. I don't think I will be able to let him go again.

"We need to talk… somewhere privately," I say breathlessly.

He nods, "your place?"

"No… yours."

He nods again, and entwines his hand with mine and together we walk out of the ballroom – people openly gawking at us – towards the truth…

And our future.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Disclaimer- all characters sadly belongs to the one and only Stephanie Meyer!**_

 _ **Okay guys, it's the big one! The pivotal chapter is here, and believe me when I say, you will find out everything! It is action packed, to say the least. I thought that this wouldn't take long to write, hence why I promised to post earlier this week. I had even written all of Edward's history and a family tree prior to making the chapter, but it was actually extremely difficult to write.**_

 _ **I only hope that you are not disappointed and enjoy it! No lemons here, surprisingly, but this is the longest chapter I have ever written and it's nearly three in the morning here so please forgive me just this once! After this chapter, I promise there will be A LOT of lemons in our BXE's future.**_

 _ **I am so bloody nervous about you guys reading this... my palms are sweating! Please let me know what you think in the reviews. Your reviews for the last chapter were ah-ma-zing! I was so happy that you were happy with it, considering I had TWO alternative endings.**_

 _ **Anyway, thanks again for all your support (the reviews, favourites and follows). Please know, that while I don't personally reply to you guys, I massively appreciate them and take every single one into consideration. If you guys have any questions though, I will happily answer! Please review and lets get to 300!**_

 _ **Playlist of the chapter- 'I put a spell on you'- Annie Lenox, 'My Love' – Sia and 'Yours' – Ella Henderson.**_

 _ **Lots of love xo**_

 _ **12.**_

 _ **BPOV**_

We hurry out of the ballroom, hands entwined as we rush to the doorway. It doesn't escape my notice that there are a few people gawking at us and whispering, but Edward dominates my senses. Feeling his calloused palm against mine, his thumb rubbing soft circles on the inside of my wrist, smelling that familiar, spicy scent that is so masculine and so unequivocally Edward.

I shiver as the cool air kisses my bare skin. The late October air is still brisk and cold as autumn morphs into early winter. At my shudder, Edward pulls me by the hand into his embrace, cradling me to his body. Brushing his lips against my neck, he whispers: "We'll be home soon, baby."

 _Home._

I nod happily, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. It occurs to me, that I was already home. Here in his arms – where I belonged. It sounds extremely cheesy, and prior to meeting Edward, totally out of character. But it's true.

"Shall we call a cab?" I ask, looking up at him.

He smiles bashfully, and shakes his head "uh – I've actually got us a ride already."

Confused, I peer up and down the sidewalk, searching for his motorcycle or better yet – his car. As much as I adored his Harley, there is no way I would be able to straddle a bike in this dress.

But all I can see amongst the lines of yellow cabs is a sleek, black limousine. The ball is a well-known and prestigious event celebrating academia, but I can't imagine anyone turning up to it in a limo! Not Alistair Adley or Stefan Ardelean. Perhaps Heidi, since she could be especially high maintenance, but even that seems unlikely…

A stout man in a dark suit with a black cap climbs out of the front seat, and walks around to the back.

My eyes widen, as he looks straight at Edward and I expectantly.

"Mr-"

"Yes Nigel! Thank you very much."

Edward runs a hand through his hair in his typically nervous fashion, "Bella – this is… our family driver, Nigel Gerandy. Nigel, this is my girlfriend," he glances at me anxiously but I do not rebuke him "Isabella Swan."

Nigel smiles at me kindly, offering a hand "Miss Swan, it's a pleasure."

His eyes were warm, but there is a curious glint in them as I shake his hand shyly. He looks to be fifty years old, with his cleanly shaven face and salt and pepper hair visible under his hat.

"Please – call me Bella."

He smiles again but I sense that he will be keeping up the formalities.

Edward settles his hand on the small of my back and gently nudges me inside.

The inside of the limo is lavish with two-tone leather seats and spotlight lighting. I sit back taking in the small TV and mini fridge, as well as the champagne flutes settled on a round table next to the fitted entertainment system.

It is all so… glamorous. How is this my life?

Edward slides in beside me, closing the door softly behind him. He looks at me, probably waiting for my reaction.

"Th- this is… um – wow."

He chuckles, reaching over tentatively to take my hand back into his.

"I am sorry that its so ostentatious, but I was in a rush to get to your speech in time and this was the most convenient."

I laugh lightly, "Well it's no Harley."

He laughs along with me, nodding.

"So… your family's driver?" I wonder, curiously.

"I'll explain everything as soon as we get back," he assures me "its better if I tell you without any interruptions or… distractions."

I raise an inquisitive eyebrow – "Distractions?"

He smiles a smile I know all too well. The sight of it makes my toes curl in Alice's Lang sandals, and butterflies flutter in my stomach. Suddenly I am too aware of the small space we are now confined in.

He raises a phone that I didn't notice before from the wall of the limo "Nigel?"

I look forward to see Nigel raising an identical phone to his ear "Yes, Sir?"

I giggle at the word 'sir', to which Edward smirks at.

"Can you pull the divider up, please?"

"Yes, Sir."

Nigel obediently brings the divider up, effectively hiding us from view and shutting us away.

I look over to Edward who watches me through hooded eyes - I gulp at his sultry gaze.

"Couldn't you just shout that to him?"

He shrugs carelessly "force of habit."

I playfully edge away from him in an idle attempt to escape, but then find myself pressed against the window with Edward's arms caging me in.

"Won't he hear us?" I stutter.

He runs his nose up and down my neck, "That's one of the perks about a limo. It's sound-proof."

My eyes roll back as I feel his hot breathes on my sensitive skin.

"Do you realise how stunning you look tonight?" He murmurs.

His right hand takes both of my wrists and pins them to my lap – not that I would restrain him in any way – whilst his left hand ghosts up the slit of my dress, his nails barely scraping up my skin, causing goose-bumps to form under his slight touch.

He flicks his tongue out against my neck, making me gasp with need. My panties dampen and I crave his tongue on another, more sensitive part of me…

"Isabella?" he asks again, nibbling lightly on the lobe of my ear.

"Uh – what?"

He snickers, "I asked if you knew how absolutely beautiful you looked tonight?"

I stutter under his administrations, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"N-no." I state breathlessly. He still holds my hands in his grip, and now his lips make the journey across my face, over my dimples and nose and cheekbones and eyebrows – but never my lips.

I growl and he chuckles again.

"Do you know how maddening it was, watching all those men look at you so hungrily? How I wanted to fucking kill them for even _thinking_ about touching you that way? As if you were _theirs?"_

I whimper, because now I can feel the heat of his lips against mine – but they still don't make full contact.

"But you aren't theirs are you Isabella?"

"No."

"What was that?"

"No – I'm _yours._ Only ever yours."

The conviction in my voice was all it took for him to slam his lips onto me. The sweet relief of feeling his heated flesh move under mine is incredible. I pull my hands out of his, pushing him back and sitting on his lap.

With my left hand I hitch the velvety material of my dress up my thighs so I can straddle him. The dress is tight around the top of my legs but I settle my knees of either side of his hips defiantly.

One of his arms wraps around my waist whilst his other moves up and down the bare skin of my back. He groans as that wonderful, omnipresent electricity sizzles through his fingertips into my skin.

The vibrations of his groan spur me on as my tongue twines with his in a fabulous rhythm that makes me want to tear this delicious suit off his even tastier body. It's good that the divider is up, otherwise Nigel would be getting one hell of a show.

"You drive me crazy" he says in a husky, sexy voice.

I weave both of my hands through his hair; god I missed his hair. My breasts are mashed against his chest and I can feel his hard on as he grinds upwards. All that separates us is the thin lace of my thong and his pants.

The sexual tension is thick in the air and the only sounds that can be heard- our heavy breathing and longing moans.

"God, I fucking missed you" he says between soft, wet kisses.

At his honesty, I pull his head back tenderly by his hair so that I can look into his eyes.

"I am so sorry."

He furrows his brows, pushing a tendril behind my ear "what are you sorry for, baby?"

"For leaving you," I comb his hair through my fingers "I shouldn't have left. Not like that. I should've heard what you had to say."

He shakes his head "Bella, I don't blame you for leaving. Shit, if I had been in your position, I would've left as well. You didn't sign up for any of my drama."

"Yes I did," I say fiercely "The moment that I said I would be your girlfriend I was signed up. I am with you Edward, and you… you mean so much to me. As your girlfriend, I accept you for all your flaws and imperfections. Your problems are my problems. It took me a week of being away from you to fully understand that, but know this – I wont ever leave without communicating with you first."

He cups my face between his palms "what on earth did I do to deserve you?"

I blush, but as I open my mouth to disagree he continues, "Being away from you brought a few things into perspective as well. Turnabout is fair play, and I promise to never lie to you again. Since our relationship has begun, I have never truly laid all my cards on the table – but I trust you, with all my heart. I am going to tell you every thing, and even then – if by some miracle you decide that you can handle my family drama, then I will cherish and… care for you until you send me away."

I kiss him with as much love as I can muster. The relief I feel at the knowledge that he isn't about to tell me everything because he feels like he owes it to me, but because he _trusts me_ is immeasurable.

Our making out grows more passionate but as I bring my hand down to unbutton his shirt, he moves away, forcing me to pause.

He smiles half-heartedly, "you don't understand how much I crave you right now. But the next time I make love to you, I want there to be no lies or secrets between us. I made that mistake last time and I will not do it again."

…

The rest of the drive and the walk to his apartment are filled with heartfelt caresses and loving gazes but we don't kiss again, knowing that it would only end with us ripping each other's clothes off. There is only so much a woman can restrain herself, and as much as I wanted to be with Edward again – he was right. This talk was long overdue, and ultimately the turning point of our relationship.

Our relationship up until now was not bad to say the least, but some may call it a little unhealthy. With his reluctance to tell me the truth and me being totally clouded by these newfound emotions and total lust for his body, we were missing the foundations of honesty and coherency, needed for an ideal relationship. But with everything out in the open, I had total confidence in the fact that we'd only come out the other side stronger than before.

Walking into his apartment, I am hit with an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. I could see us sitting at his piano, me leaning against his shoulder as he played his song… _our_ song. I saw a vision of us on the sofa, laughing over Chinese food. I could see us at the doorway leading to the hallway, me wrapped around him as he kissed me soundly and sweetly. Then there is me – storming out of the room, tears down my ruby cheeks as I throw his keys in anger and humiliation.

The Edward of the present places his hands on my shoulders, slowly removing his tux jacket that he had put on me when we had gotten out of the car, while I slide Alice's heels off and wiggle my toes; loving the newfound freedom and lack of pressure on the soles of my feet.

When I stand up straight Edward places a sweet peck on my pulse point, "As much as I have been dreaming about peeling that dress from your body, I don't think I'll be able to concentrate if you stay in it. Plus, you need to be comfortable."

I nod, understanding.

He leads me through to his bedroom. I divert my eyes from the bed, aware that the moment my eyes fall on it, I will be bombarded by images of us rolling in it, twisted in the throes of passion…

"Bella?"

I glance at Edward who smiles at me knowingly; in his hands is one of his t-shirts and a pair of his sweatpants.

Colour spreads across my cheeks. Taking the clothes from him I murmur, "I'll just go to the bathroom."

I can feel his eyes on me as I hurry to the main bathroom next door. Having never really been in here before, I take a second to admire it. It's three times larger than my bathroom back home, and a sandy coloured marble. The most attractive thing however, is a toss up between the walking shower and Jacuzzi bath.

Finally alone, I look at myself in the mirror.

My cheeks are a rosy pink, and lips slightly swollen from Edward's advances in the car. Most of my hair has fallen from Alice's hairdo and my eyes are wide and excited. I haven't looked this happy in… well, since the last time I was here.

Smiling to myself, I slip out of the dress, making sure to fold it carefully – this is my first designer dress after all.

With the dress being backless I wasn't given the luxury of a bra, so all I am clad in is a black lace thong.

I pull Edward's light grey t-shirt over my head, inhaling his scent deeply and step into his sweatpants.

They are miles too big for me and instantly fall down to my knees, despite having rolled them at the waist several times. Giving up, I take them off and fold them on top of my dress.

I then take each diamante clip out and the dark elastic band that held my hair in its position. Finger combing my hair, it falls in loose curls down my back and my scalp releases a sigh of relief.

After washing my face from its make up, I finally feel like me again.

With our clothes and my jewellery in one hand and Alice's shoes dangling from the fingertips of my opposite hand, I wander back into his bedroom.

"Edward?"

His room is empty. Spotting his clothes sat neatly in the corner of the room, I lay mine next to them. In the corner of my eye, I see that he has left his underwear drawer open. I swipe a pair of Calvins from the top, and pull them over my legs. I have a feeling that if he knew that all I was wearing is his t-shirt and thong then our talk would be prolonged even further.

Venturing back in to the main living area, I smile silently at the sight of his electric fire burning, and the muted glow of the lamps, but there's still no Edward.

"Edward?"

"Kitchen, baby!"

Having seen his tux folded in his room, I am unsurprised to see that he has changed, but still a little bit disappointed. I don't think I've seen anyone pull of a suit more than Edward Mason. He was like something from a Chanel commercial.

Yet he still manages to look amazing in a pair of black sweat pants and skin-tight white tee.

He has his back to me, stirring something.

I skip over to him, wrapping my arms around his waist "whatcha doing?"

He grins, "making you tea."

My eyes widen and I look down to see that he is actually making me tea.

"I thought you didn't like tea?"

My mind immediately wonders to one of our mornings together not too long ago…

" _Got me looking so crazy, my baby! I'm not myself; lately I'm foolish, I don't do this! I've been playing myself; baby, I don't care…"_

 _I sing, stirring my tea and shaking my ass with as much vigour as I can. This song is a guilty pleasure of mine, and every time it comes on the radio, I literally have to sing and dance._

" _Cause your love's got the best of me. And baby, you're making a fool of me…"_

 _A snicker brings me crashing to earth with a rather loud bang. I turn sharply to find my boyfriend leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest and a stupid grin on his stupidly handsome face. He is also topless._

" _Oh please, continue." He says brightly._

" _Don't make fun of me!" I pout._

" _But you are so cute when you're angry," he jokes, walking over to me. He cups my face and kisses my frown away. Damn it, I can never stay angry with him for long._

 _He rubs his nose against mine, "what you making?"_

" _Tea."_

 _He moves away, quirking an eyebrow "tea? I thought only British people drink tea?"_

" _Well, that's what Alice and I thought! Basically, during our first year we had a particularly shitty day so started searching on Google ways to feel better and one of the options was to drink a cup of tea – and so my adoration for tea was born."_

 _He shakes his head, chuckling "you have to be the weirdest girl I have ever met."_

" _You love my weirdness."_

 _A peculiar look forms in his eye, but he doesn't move away. Instead he picks me up so he doesn't have to bend down and gives me a fiery kiss._

" _Got me looking so crazy right now, your touch got me looking so crazy right now…"_

"Yeah… I may have stocked up on all your favourite snacks when you came over the last time…"

"You what?"

His ears turn a ruby red, and I want to 'aww' so hard, but I have a feeling that he wouldn't react very well to that.

"Well, I thought you would be staying the night and I wanted you to be comfortable."

If I wasn't so deeply in love with him before, then after that, I am pretty sure I would've fallen head over heels. His statement also makes the pit of guilt in my stomach grow.

"I'm so so-"

He turns around, my arms still around him "Bella, I didn't say that to make you feel guilty. I get why you left. I don't blame you at all sweetheart. But like I said before – I am not going to lie to you, especially over something as trivial as stocking my girlfriends favourite food and drink in my kitchen."

At the earnest expression on his face, I press a short but meaningful kiss to his lips. I can feel his smile under my lips but he doesn't break it. He reaches down, as if he is going to lift me on to the counter but as he makes contact with my thigh, he realises he is touching some skin.

He flinches back, looking down at me. He groans at the sight of my legs, "are you trying to kill me woman?"

I giggle, dancing away from his wandering hands.

"Mr Mason, I thought we established in the car – no distractions?"

He growls under his breath "I thought that fucking dress was enough of a distraction. How do you manage to look even more beautiful than before?"

I roll my eyes.

"Don't you roll those gorgeous eyes at me Isabella. Without all the extravagance and accessories, you are still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

His words are completely genuine, and my heart stutters. He does this every time. Every time I think he can't get more romantic, he manages to top it.

As I move to him, he quickly grabs my tea – "Oh no, no, no. We are doing this now. Not even your incredibly tempting body is going to deter me."

We go into the living room, in front of the fire. I sit at end of the sofa, curled up like a cat with my mug of steaming tea cradled in between my hands. Edward sits in the middle of the sofa, and moves my legs so they stretched out over his lap. I have a feeling that he needs the contact – now more than ever.

He releases a deep breath "I have never told anyone my story before. So please bear with me."

"No one?" I ask, startled "not even Emmett?"

He shakes his head "he knows bits and pieces of it. Not everything. Can I ask; would you be able to ask me questions at the end? I don't know how easy this is-"

I place a hand over his forearm, smiling reassuringly "of course Edward. No interruptions."

He nods, and so it begins…

"My mothers full name is Elizabeth Platt, the youngest child of Evelyn and William Platt and the sister of Esme Platt. The Platts are a very old, rich family. Evelyn was a high society socialite and William was even mayor of New York for several years.

My mother's birth wasn't at all planned. Evelyn and William had trouble with conceiving their first child Esme, so a second child was never really taken into consideration. Evelyn was thirty-three when she gave birth to Esme and at the birth, she suffered from high blood pressure. It got to the point where she had to be kept in hospital for a week or so after the birth of Esme to fully recover. The doctors recommended her to not have any more children, but as I said before – with them struggling to conceive Esme, neither of my grandparents truly thought they'd ever have another child.

But, when Esme was ten years old and Evelyn was forty-three, she became pregnant with my mother. William was of course terrified; he was worried with the complications of Esme's birth on top of the fact that Evelyn was a lot older; there was an obvious risk. But Evelyn refused to abort her baby and went through with the pregnancy. Esme, as you can imagine, wasn't very enthused by the fact that she was losing out on the privileges of being the only child.

Evelyn gave birth to Elizabeth Platt on the 17th of March 1975. Elizabeth shared a strong resemblance with both her mother and Esme with her bronze hair and blue eyes. She was a beautiful baby, and at first William rejoiced over the fact that he had another daughter to spoil. But then things took a turn for the worst. Evelyn suffered eclampsia; due to extreme high blood pressure she went through seizures and died.

Esme and my grandfather were beyond distraught. They blamed my mother for Evelyn's death. For years, while my mother lived a luxurious lifestyle, she was treated with coldness from both her sister and father. William showered Esme with affection but Elizabeth was cast to the side. As a result of the neglect, Elizabeth started acting out and became… well – the black sheep of the family." Edward smiles ironically at the phrasing.

"By the time she was twelve, William had grown especially tired of her behaviour. They were still in the public eye, and I feel as though he also grew resentful over the fact that the public fawned over Elizabeth, the poor Platt daughter who never knew the kindness of her mother.

So just before Elizabeth's thirteenth birthday, he sent her to a boarding school in Chicago, in the hope that it would somehow reform her. Esme was twenty-two at this point and started dating the son of another prominent socialite family; so it worked out perfectly for her. No longer would she have to worry about her baby sister embarrassing her or taking the spotlight from her." He shakes his head disgustingly, and I feel my hands clutch the mug handle a little tighter. That poor little girl, who never truly felt the love of her family and shoved away like an embarrassing secret! It is cruel.

Edward looks over at me. He must've seen the anger on my face, because he gives me a small smile and rubs at my frown lines.

"Don't be angry baby, it turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to her. She loved Chicago. She found her passion in music, and began learning the piano, violin and cello. She hated the holidays in which she would go home. Then when she turned fifteen, she met my father – Edward Mason."

He gazes into the fire, it flickers and casts light across his beautiful face and suddenly he looks a little lost. I rub calming circles onto the hand that is still on top of my leg.

"This is where it gets a little foggier. I don't really know much about my father. I know that he was nineteen when he met my mother, and they began having a relationship secretly for obvious reasons. My mother didn't want her family knowing that she was dating someone older than her. She was scared that if they found out, they would take her out of her school and she would be forced to live back at home.

Within this time Esme had married her perfect socialite husband – Carlisle Cullen."

I gasp at the name, knowing immediately whom Edward is talking about. He looks at me meaningfully, his eyes begging me to hold onto my questions. I nod, but inside I am screaming. It suddenly all makes sense, all his wealth and secrecy. Did this mean that he was…

"Of course, they weren't as perfect as they were making themselves out to be. They – like my grandparents – were struggling in conceiving and it was causing some unwanted tension amongst them. Then, when my mother was sixteen she became pregnant with me. She didn't know what to do – how the hell was she going to tell her father, or the sister who was so desperately trying for a baby? She was planning on running off with my father where they would start a life together… with me." The wistfulness in his voice is unmistakable and my heart broke for the family who never got to be together.

"But shortly after her discovery, my father was killed. My mom was beyond distraught, her whole world fell apart – but she decided that she would not abort." My heart paused for a fraction of a second at the mere thought of Edward being… no. The thought itself was too painful. How could I live in a world where he didn't exist? It seemed so unnatural.

I place my half drunk tea on the floor, and scoot further down the sofa – needing to be closer to him. As though I needed reassurance that he is here, with me – tangible and real.

He gratefully takes me into his arms, stroking my hair in soft strokes, "she did the bravest thing I know – and moved back home. William was furious with the revelation, as was Esme although I believe her anger boiled down to jealousy. William demanded that Elizabeth go through with an abortion otherwise she would be disowned. But this was a piece of my father – inside her, so she refused. That was when Carlisle and Esme stepped in, Carlisle said that he and Esme would adopt me and bring me up as their child and Elizabeth could pose as my Aunt – that way she would still know her son but still get an inheritance.

She was sixteen years old. And without her inheritance, how the fuck would she bring me up otherwise? On the streets? So she made a deal with the devil and agreed."

He gulps heavily but I stay silent, realisation dawning deep inside me "On the 20th June 1992, I was born. Elizabeth called me Edward Mason, after my father. That's what it says on my birth certificate. But then Esme and Carlisle adopted me with a private lawyer, they named me – Anthony Edward Cullen."

This disclosure had become clear to me when he had first said Esme's husbands name. But even then, I never truly believed it. Yet now as it falls from his lips, I am overcome with emotion.

So this is it – the big secret. The recluse Anthony Cullen, the son of one of the richest families in New York, the little boy who Stefan spoke so fondly of is… my Edward. I felt like I should be more shocked; maybe throw something or yell or _something._ After all, this is the moment that everything has built up to. But instead, my body goes in shut down and the gears in my head start turning.

This is big – of course it is. My boyfriend has another identity, but technically he hasn't lied to me at all. He told me that his parents died. He told me that his name is Edward Mason, the name that is on his birth certificate.

I know the _real_ Edward Mason/ Anthony Cullen. I know the boy who grew up in the spotlight, who disappeared without a single word. I know the man he has grown up to be.

And to me that is all that matters.

The fact that he is related to a bunch of rich people and is wealthy doesn't matter to me whatsoever. As far as I am concerned – if all he had been was a bartender working for his keep at Eclipse, I would still love him just as much.

While my mind digests this, my mouth opens and closes like a gaping fish. I try to get out what I have already concluded to in my mind – but my mouth wont cooperate.

"Baby?" Edward asks shakily, "Please… say something. I – I know, this changes everything. I know this probably changes the way you look at me…" His arms tighten around me, as though he is terrified at the thought that I might run from him, or disappear.

But all I do is shake my head, trying to string together a sentence.

"Bella?" His voice reaching a more hysterical tone now "please. You're scaring me a little."

"It… it doesn't change anything."

"What?" he breathes disbelievingly.

I turn so that I can look at him straight in the eye "I don't fucking care what your name is or who your family are. You are still _my_ Edward."

A heartbreaking smile stretches across his face, and his eyes turn glassy. His lips collide into mine with a wild abandon, and I swear – I feel the wetness of his tears against my cheeks.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." He chants, his hands moving up and down my back.

I pull away from him as a new thought springs to mind, "is that why you didn't want to tell me? Because you thought I'd be a gold-digger and use you for your money?" I can understand it. I mean he has got to be one of the most eligible bachelors in Manhattan – but he knows me better than to think that all I would care about is his money.

His eyes widen at the question "God baby! No! Of course not – I knew from the moment I met you, that you were different to any other girl I had ever met. There's a bit more to the story."

"There's _more_?"

He smiles weakly "have I overwhelmed you enough?"

"Of course not. It's just… you've been through so fucking much."

Edward brings a gentle hand, running his fingertips across my cheekbone "it's more my mother than me who suffered. My upbringing was a very easy one. I was spoilt rotten, given any toy I wanted, any piece of technology as soon as it came out. Then when I was three years old, Esme became pregnant with Rosalie…"

"Oh my god!"

I face palm my face in realisation, feeling completely idiotic.

"What?"

"She's your cousin/ adopted sister!"

Edward sniggers, amused "you see why you never had to be worried?"

"Jesus, I feel like such a moron!"

"In your defence, we look nothing alike" he shrugs "she is the spitting image of Carlisle."

"Still…"

"How were you to know? Anyway, I'm 100% sure that if Rosalie and I _hadn't_ been relate – biologically or illegally – we would definitely never go there. She is like her mother… Control freaks, stubborn, spoilt and beyond self-obsessed...

But besides that, Carlisle and Esme's perfect little socialite family was finally complete. The only chink in their armour was my mother, or as I knew her then – Aunt Elizabeth, she and I had a really close bond. Esme was never truly a mother figure to me. She preferred to have her nails done and go shopping. She didn't want to play with me, or listen to my days at school, but Elizabeth… she did all of those things and _more_. She taught me how to play the piano and she would bake with me in the kitchen. We'd play hide and seek, and watch movies. She bandaged my legs when I fell down and kissed away my tears. To me, she was my best friend."

Those emerald eyes glaze over as he reminisces. I can picture the woman from Edward's room sitting beside him in bed as she read to him, my beautiful boy gazing at her with adoration as she told him stories of knights fighting dragons and superheroes flying through the limitless sky.

"She knew me better than anyone," he says in a broken whisper that makes me grip him tighter.

"She would be so proud of you Edward."

He shakes his head sadly.

"Of course she would! You are so kind and generous. You are passionate and loving, loyal and caring. You are one of the most amazing people I know."

"I am weak Bella." He looks beyond tired, his eyes defeated.

"No! Edward –"

"Wait. You don't know everything yet. Let me get this out."

My mouth turns into one thin line. It takes everything in me to not shake him – why can't he see the man that I see?

"From the moment I could walk, Carlisle and Esme would drill into me the idea of becoming a doctor. For my eighteenth birthday, even after I had gotten into Julliard with a scholarship, they bought me a fucking engraved stethoscope. They were relentless in their idea. But I was firm in my ambition to become a musician. It was all I wanted. Esme believed it to be a 'silly hobby' and so allowed me to join the school orchestra when I was eleven."

The tension in his shoulders is unmistakable and I can hear the clear agony growing in his voice. He is shaking.

"Baby? It's okay. I'm here."

He exhales through his nose in one low sigh, "I was twelve and it was my first piano recital. I had been practicing for fucking ages because it would be the first time my parents would see me perform. Elizabeth helped me and I was so ready. To me, this was my opportunity to show my parents what I could do, to convince them that my vocation wasn't medicine but music.

So imagine my fucking disappointment when neither of them turned up. I was so fucking _angry._ Carlisle used the excuse that he got called in for an emergency surgery but Esme straight up told me that she _forgot._ After lashing out at them, I called Elizabeth and demanded her to drop everything to come and pick me up. To take me away from these people who claimed to love me but didn't fucking care about something that meant so much to me."

His knuckles turn white, "Breathe Edward, breathe for me."

"I – I am as bad _as_ them. I didn't care that it was way too late for her to come and get me. I didn't care that it was pouring with rain outside. Nothing else mattered except this all consuming, self-involved pity. An hour had past before we got a call from the hospital. There was literally nothing they could do, she died on the impact."

His head drops in defeat, with a single finger I tilt in up to me. His eyes are haunted and its something I never ever want to witness again. He deserves happiness and laughter.

"Edward it _isn't_ your fault! You were a kid! You were angry and scared and disappointed and probably exhausted, no one is blaming you for needing that one person who could take all those feelings away! It is not. Your. Fault."

A gust of air leaves his body and he slumps against me, "I miss her."

I smile sadly at him "she is always with you Edward. And regardless of what you may think, she would be so proud of you."

I know he doesn't believe me. I can tell by the half-heartedness in his crooked smile, the sceptical glint in his eyes and the lack of self-assurance in the way he holds himself, so different to his usual lazy confident stance. But in that moment, I acknowledge that I will spend the rest of my days trying to make him believe it.

We sit there, me in his lap, his arms around me, face buried in my hair, complete silence surrounding us except for the crackle of the fire, for what could have been a few long minutes or a short hour.

"There's more to tell me, isn't there?" I ask.

"How'd you guess?"

"You feel too tense, as if you have a weight on your shoulders. We can continue this conversation tomorrow if you're too tired."

He looks exhausted, the dark shadows beneath his eyes growing evermore prominent.

"I don't think I can sleep," he admits, rubbing his eyes "My body is tired but my mind is so damn busy. Once I get everything off my chest… I dunno. I just feel like I will feel better. Knowing that you know everything about me – nothing hanging between us like some dark cloud."

I nod empathetically, but it's clear that we can't continue this conversation here. My ass is growing numb from sitting here for so long and there is a pins and needle sensation moving up my legs. Plus, I am sitting on top of Edward, so who knows how uncomfortable he is!

"Why…why don't we continue this in the bath?"

A ghost of a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips and both of his brows disappear under his hairline "Miss Swan are you trying to take advantage of me in my vulnerable state?"

I think I turn the colour of a fucking fire engine "N-no! I just thought, y'know… we both need to calm down and r-relax… stop laughing at me!"

Uncontrolled laughter surges from him, "lets go. Y'know when I said no distractions this may be the biggest one yet! How am I supposed to focus with you all wet and sudsy and naked?"

I chuckle, "Well, I'll just have to stay strong for both of us."

Edward looks doubtful, "baby, no offence – but I think your sexual libido maybe on par with mine…"

I slap him on the shoulder playfully, "you wish, Mason!"

He grins, and stands up – holding me bridal style. I squeal as he practically runs to the bathroom with a newfound energy, "someone is eager."

"A week without seeing your naked body, Miss Swan, is far too long."

"Your incorrigible."

He sets me down and goes to work on the bath. Running the hot water, he goes into the cabinet beneath the sink and pulls out some bath salts that look like they have been gathering dust.

I drop the boxers and thong, bringing the t-shirt over my head and tie my hair up into a messy bun with an elastic band.

Edward looks over his shoulder at me and his eyes instantly darken.

I bite my lip at his sultry stare, "like what you see Mason?"

He unconsciously darts his tongue out, swiping his bottom lip and I think that his face alone could make me come on the spot.

"You are testing my limits, Miss Swan." He says, his voice low.

"Always Mr Mason."

At this, a smug smirk teases his lips and he effortlessly pulls his shirt off with one clean sweep.

I hungrily goggle at his upper body, the strong lines of his torso, defined abs and pectorals, the dusting of bronze hair that travels down his v.

He then pushes his sweat pants and boxers down so he is fully exposed to me.

For a minute we just study the other's body, like thirsty travellers in a scorching desert looking at a glass of water. He is my water. My oxygen. My everything.

"Like what you see Miss Swan?" he parrots.

I narrow my eyes at him, and swallow back my desperate need for him. We had a conversation to continue, and not even his hot naked body would distract me.

I stalk purposefully to the bath not breaking eye contact, and step in. The hot water feels amazing against my skin, and I can smell the lavender scent of the bath salts, but I refrain from moaning – no need to push him over the edge.

I sit down and open my legs, "sit here."

He chuckles "are you pulling a Pretty Woman on me?"

I say nothing, waiting for him to elaborate. To be honest, I didn't really think that he would cotton on so quickly.

"You know… god this is going to deduct so many man points." He steps in the bath and dutifully sits in the space between my legs, leaning back so his head is on my naked breasts "mind you, now I am sitting here – I don't really care about those man points." He groans, putting both of his hands on either side of my thigh and wrapping them around his waist.

"So what was that about Pretty Woman?" I grab a loofah from the side.

He releases a low cough "you know… the bit where Richard Gere leans on Julia Roberts in the bath when he talks about his family history?"

I laugh, "Well you definitely seem pretty familiar with it."

"Hey!" he whines, "remember my cousin/adopted sister is Rosalie. I was made to watch that fucking film every Saturday for thirteen long years!"

Giggling, I dunk the loofah into the soapy water, and start drawing large circles across his chest, fascinated as in the water he almost glitters. I internally snicker at the mere image of Edward sparkling.

"You know, this is kind of pretty similar to Pretty Woman. With you being a rich Edward and all…"

"Oh? Is this your way of telling me that you are actually a hooker and expect me to pay up three thousand dollars at the end of our pseudo-therapist session?"

I tickle the back of his knees with my big toe making him squirm in my grasp. I tighten myself around him so he can't escape, instantly making him grunt as he feels my intimate areas rub against him. I in turn, moan desperately at the friction.

"Bella," he pants, "you aren't doing a very good job at not trying to distract me."

"Right," I loosen my legs but keep them resting next to him.

"So, uh – where was I?" He shakes his head, as if in a fog.

I sober up immediately "It was… that night."

He settles against me again, and I resume cleaning his chest.

With a shuddering sigh he continues, "She died in the car accident instantly. It was a huge shock to the family. My grandfather was shell-shocked, and I am pretty sure that is what drove him to his grave not two years later. Esme was also shocked, but she wasn't close to her sister – she didn't even shed a tear for her or read at her funeral. Meanwhile, I kind of… well I just pulled away from my family. I was numb. I spent whatever time I had to myself inside my room.

I didn't want to be around Carlisle and Esme, because, whilst I believed I was mostly to fault, a part of me felt that if they had just fucking turned up to that damned recital that argument would have never happened and I would have never felt compelled to call Elizabeth. All these thoughts just ran through my head every day and I didn't know how to release it all. I couldn't touch my piano; there was no compositions forming in my mind, music just reminded me of her and just thinking about her hurt. It honestly felt like losing a limb… that connection just snapped.

Then one evening, I decided to leave my room. I don't even know why, but I remember having this… _itch_ to escape. Anyway, I was walking past Carlisle's office and I heard my name so like any other overly curious kid, I listened into the conversation.

Esme was screaming. It was clear that she had just been to Elizabeth's will hearing and had found out that she had bequeathed all her belongings and apartment. Why she was angry, I'll never know. I mean, Esme lived in an apartment five times bigger than the one Elizabeth lived in, and whatever else Elizabeth had, she could've easily bought for herself. Elizabeth didn't even have a lot of money, because she was so dependant on my grandfather. I was just so confused by it all. And then Carlisle was trying to calm her down. And then Esme started shouting: _"Over my dead body I will give him that fucking letter. Who does she think she is? She stopped being his mother the moment she agreed that we were going to adopt him!"_ "

"That's how you found out you were adopted? Eavesdropping on a conversation through the crack of a door?"

"It just made so much _sense._ The overwhelming loss I felt… feel. It can only be described as a feeling a child would experience if they lost a parent. It also explained why Esme could be so cold with me, why she and Carlisle were always pushing me – never fully satisfied with what I was accomplishing, their lack of pride over my grades at school or my ability to play music. They never were my parents."

"What did you do?"

"I went back to my room, and waited till everyone went to bed. Then I snuck down to Carlisle's office. It took me nearly an hour of looking but I finally found the letter. From my mom – my real mom. It told me _everything_ Bella. Everything I have told you was in that letter. The only thing that she remained secretive about was my father. She said his age, his name. That while I had her colouring, I am the carbon copy of him."

"So he was extremely handsome then," I flirt.

He turns his head to wink at me.

"She loved him. That much was clear from the letter, but there were no details about his family or where I could find them. No clue to his employment, but due to his age it's likely that he wasn't working full time. I hid the letter in my pocket, and the next day I confronted my supposed parents. At first they denied it, but when I told them I heard their conversation in the office the day before, Carlisle told Esme that I 'deserved to know the truth'.

What happened then could be a storyline from a soap opera. Esme basically confirmed Elizabeth's story, although it was far more sympathetic to her. She told me that my mom was the reason for the death of my grandmother. That she was spoilt and rude and disrespectful to their father. The hatred in her voice just highlighted everything Elizabeth had spoken about in the letter. When I inquired into my father and his death, she told me that he was a drug dealer. That my mother didn't tell anyone because she was embarrassed – she idealised him and wanted to protect him. She went on to say that he probably died as a result of the drugs."

I can feel his heart pounding against my hand. It didn't really make sense to me – I couldn't see Edward's father being a drug dealer. I don't know what it is… a hunch maybe? If Elizabeth wanted to run away with Edward to raise their baby, then it is unlikely that he did drugs. She'd want to protect him – that much is obvious through the selfless decision to give her baby to her much richer, older sister.

I press a tiny kiss at the space behind his ear, and massage his bicep with the hand that isn't moving over his chest. He doesn't react though – too caught up in the memories.

"I was upset. Beyond upset. At that moment, I wanted nothing to do with Esme and Carlisle. I told them that I didn't want to be apart of their sick family. Apart of me was even furious with Elizabeth. After years of sitting next to me while I played the piano, kissing me on the cheek before I went to sleep, running around Central park with me… how could she never tell me? How could she leave me with these people?

Of course, Esme was enraged. But I told her, that if she made me attend any of her social events, if she didn't leave me alone – then I would release the letter to the press and destroy her reputation. It scared her off enough, and so that was that. Anthony Cullen disappeared from the spotlight.

The next few years were… difficult to say the least. I majorly acted out. I drank heavily, took drugs to numb the pain. I am embarrassed to say, that with what little money my mother saved, I used a chunk to pay for my recreational habit. My school threatened to expel me. The golden boy hit rock bottom. Esme told me that I was ruining my future – she must've paid that school thousands to keep all my delinquencies off my record and to not expel me.

Then, when I was sixteen years old, I went to this bar down in Brooklyn. I asked the bartender for a drink, but he told me to go and pull myself together and to not feel sorry for myself. That there are hundreds of thousands of people out there who have the same problem as me… _worse_ problems than me. He gave me the kick up the ass that I so desperately needed. His name was Emmett."

I grin. I can't imagine Emmett being so harsh to Edward, he is a teddy bear – but I am so thankful for it. He ultimately saved Edward.

"Emmett and I formed a close bond from that moment onwards. I found out that he had dropped out of NYU Tandon School of Engineering, and was working at the bar temporarily but found that he really enjoyed it. I would go to school then afterwards I would go back to this bar in the wall, and help wipe down the tables and just hang out with Emmett. He wouldn't serve me alcohol and I stopped drinking and taking drugs except for the odd glass and rare joint.

After a few months, of being there my behaviour was growing exponentially. I was happier.

One night, Em and I was just restocking the bar when the boss – Mac started panicking because the band that were meant to be performing that evening had pulled out last minute. I had told Emmett in the past that I was musically inclined and being the dick he is, he decided that that was the best moment to throw me back into my music. Mac conveniently had this shitty piano out back that had belonged to an old friend that lived with him in the flat above the bar.

So, I was forced to perform. In that moment it was as if I was thrown back into my childhood. Into those moments I would play alongside my mother, carefree. It was incredible. After that night I played a few more gigs there, and I began practicing more frequently. Not long after that, I was writing music again. It was like something had _clicked._

Knowing that my parents wouldn't be too keen to support my music I applied for a scholarship at Julliard. I got in, I moved into my mother's old apartment and I part-time worked at the bar. At eighteen I changed my name back to Edward Mason, although Esme still calls me Anthony.

Everything was back on track. I made the conscious decision of not searching for my father. I knew that his name was Edward Mason and despite the low opinion Esme projected upon him, I knew that he must've been a good man for my mother to love him. But, I guess I didn't want to be disappointed. He didn't have any family according to my mother's letter and if I went digging I didn't want to find something that would destroy my mother's perception of him and just fulfil Esme's assumptions.

By the time I had finished College, I was independent from Esme and the rest of the Cullen clan. I had paid my way through school with the money my mother left me and the scholarship helped massively, as well as the tips I was getting from the bar. I was living in my mom's apartment. Everything was great.

But sadly, I massively overestimated the job opportunities available after College. A music degree can only help itself so much. I didn't want to be a concert pianist or go touring or any of that. To be honest, I would prefer to compose. But like I said, despite being a Julliard graduate, there are very few people who hire fresh from College.

Then things started going down hill. The bar Em and I worked at was closing down due to lack of hygiene. I get it – it was an absolute shit hole, but we kind of built an attachment, y'know? Em and I were kind of floundering then. I was twenty-one, he was twenty-six. One night we were drinking in this fancy club. It was making a fortune, but there was so much we would change, the style of music, the bartenders' uniform, the layout. Then we thought… with our experience, why not open our own club? So with the rest of my mother's money, I bought a building in the centre of Manhattan and thus Eclipse was born.

It didn't take off as well as we had anticipated. There was a lot of competition, and all these big ideas we had for our club were beginning to fall through. On the side we had to take on another job just to stay afloat. Emmett had rent to pay and other stuff that I never even thought of like health insurance so took on three jobs. But by the time it was up and running we were already up to our necks with the amount of loans and debt we were under.

I found Emmett one night asleep in the office, head in his hands surrounded by countless bills and it hit me – this business and whether or not it succeeded was no longer down to me. It was down to him. He was taking everything on, and despite me being five years younger, he decided to hide all our troubles away from me. To shield me. When I saw the toll it was taking on him, I decided to call Esme."

I am captivated by the story. I can see it happening before me, the young Edward from the picture in his room, totally oblivious to his best friend's problems. Then the last sentence hits me.

"You what?" I gasp. I may never have met the woman, but his story alone conveys all I need to know about her. The woman is a snake, and cannot be trusted.

His head falls back onto my shoulder, and I can see his eyes are tightly shut "at the time it was my only option. My mother's money just didn't cover it, and the stress that it was putting on Emmett wasn't worth it. She was delighted when I called. She claimed to have missed me and even though I knew what Esme was like – I was desperate and vulnerable. I couldn't tell Emmett my problems because he would feel guilty. Garrett and Kate know me as Edward and not Anthony, and I was firm on keeping that way. I needed someone.

She wasn't extremely happy on the fact that I was working at a bar but she wanted me back in the family fold. She agreed to pay all the loans and all the debts but of course – there were conditions."

He fidgets, "what conditions?"

"Well first, I had to sign an agreement to say that the letter would never be released. I also had to agree that I would attend several family events of Esme's choice although I managed to keep her off my back until very recently. If I failed to do any of these things, she said she would sue Eclipse and make sure to run Emmett into the ground along with it."

"Edward!" I exclaim loudly, dropping the loofah – I turn his face so I can look him in the eye "she can't do that! How the hell can she sue you? On what fucking grounds?"

"Trust me, I thought the same thing. But Esme's secret weapon comes in the form of Jay Jenks. He is the best lawyer in New York and can tear anyone apart. I wouldn't stand a chance. The only way of escaping is paying her off completely. Of course the club has become hugely successful, but Esme has managed to entwine herself in every part of the business – if I try to even do it, she claims that the money I am paying her off with is her own fucking money. It's complicated and has a lot more to it, but it's so hard to explain.

And there it is. I am a twenty five year old man, indebted to his adoptive mother. Pathetic, right?"

The whole truth – I finally know everything.

"You aren't pathetic Edward, but you can't allow this woman to control you forever. You'll find a way and I am going to help you, every step of the way."

It's like his whole body deflates – there is no rigidness, no anxiety. He may not be free from Esme, but now we are in this together – he is no longer alone.

As if it hits him, he turns sharply between my legs, the sudden motion sending water to flow over the sides onto the floor.

"Edward –"

He pulls me to him and kisses me fervidly, pouring all his emotions into it. His relief at my acceptance, his pain at the loss of his mother, his anger towards Esme and quite possibly, love for me?

I wrap my arms around his neck, and all that restraint exercised over the night goes out of the window. I bring him as close to my body as I can – my legs are tight around his waist, my toes digging into his skin, my naked breasts crushed against his pecks and my aching pussy rubbing against his stomach.

I weave my hands into his hair as our tongues come out to play, then the kiss becomes a lot less frantic and more slow and sensual. His talented tongue trails across my bottom lip in a hot, wet trail before sucking it into the concave of his mouth. I groan, loving this feeling but needing more of him.

He moves away but doesn't loosen his grip on me. We are literally nose-to-nose, the tips of them are touching and I can count the number of gold specks in his green eyes. Whoever said that the eyes were windows to the soul couldn't have been more accurate. I can see his soul, and it's so beautiful, and I love him so much it hurts my heart. He has never been so beautiful to me. Here, wet and naked, bronze hair messy from me running my hands through it – eyes alive with adoration and something a lot deeper.

"There is one more thing I have to get off my chest," he whispers, despite the dead silence.

I tilt my head curiously, "what?"

One of his hands trails up my side, to gently push back a strand of hair.

He stares at me deeply, searching for something.

"I love you."

My breath catches in my throat upon hearing those three words. I didn't realise the weight that them three words held, but now – hearing them fall from his lips, I understand.

"Isabella Swan," he continues, taking advantage of my stunned being "I am so crazily, stupidly, madly in love with you, that sometimes I feel like I am walking around with a neon sign on my forehead. When I lost my mom, I felt like there was no way I would find somebody who just simply gets me like she did, someone who knows me better than I know myself. And then I met you, and you knocked me off of my feet. I… Well, we've only been together for nearly two months now so I understand if you can't say it back, but I just needed you to know. Baby, please don't cry."

My salty tears leak out from the corners of my eyes, dripping into the sweet smelling bath water. Here, is this wonderful man and he _loves_ me. And by the sounds of it, he loves me nearly as much as I love him.

I pull him so our foreheads are in full contact, "Edward Mason, Anthony Cullen – I love you so much that it absolutely astounds me. And it doesn't matter what your name is or who your family are – as long as you are _my_ Edward, then I don't care."

The moment is so pure and genuine. We are now totally exposed to each other, physically and emotionally.

His face glows with happiness and he kisses me again with such excitement that I begin to giggle with exuberance.

Before I can get back into it, he pulls away again – "can you say it one more time?"

I laugh delightedly, "I love you." I kiss his cheek, "I love you," I kiss his chin, "I love you," I kiss his nose. I continue to repeat this pattern, smattering his entire face with wet kisses.

He is beaming "I fucking love you so much Isabella Swan. You are the best thing that has happened to me."

We kiss fully, until our skin resembles that of prunes and the water is cold, but it doesn't matter.

Nothing matters but each other.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Disclaimer- all characters sadly belongs to the one and only Stephanie Meyer!**_

 _ **Happy Sunday my wonderful readers! I am so embarrassed and sad about how late this update is. I promised myself when I first started writing this story, that I wouldn't be one of those writers who take two months a time to write another chapter. But alas, here we are. I just want to say I am so incredibly sorry for how late this is. My inspiration has been so low. The last chapter took a lot out of me, with all the info – so I definitely needed a break. Within the time I have been away, I have finished my first year at Uni, so my schedule in terms of writing is so much more flexible! While I can't promise that updates will be every week, you will never have a two-month hiatus again!**_

 _ **Thank you to all of you who are sticking around with this story and for reviewing, favouriting and following. Please know that every single one is recognised with appreciating and lots and lots of love! I have big plans for each and every character, so please continue this journey with me!**_

 _ **Here is a very fluffy chapter for you all – enjoy!**_

 _ **Love you all, and many apologies again.**_

 _ **Xo**_

 _ **13.**_

I run a single wrinkled finger across his cheek, causing him to shiver but I am unsure whether it's really down to the simple movement or the coolness of the bathwater. Pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek, I murmur: "Shall we get out now?"

He sighs, "but I am so damn comfortable."

He squeezes my ass cheeks to emphasise his point, resulting in a giggle pouring from my lips. Delighting in my laughter, his fingers tickle the back of my kneecap lightly and soon the giggles turn into full on belly laughs. I playfully bat his hands away, squirming on his lap as more water splashes onto the floor. I swear there is more water on the floor than there is in the tub at this point.

"We have to," I say but instead of extracting myself from his arms I just snuggle deeper into the crook of his neck "I am turning into a prune."

Edward's hands stroke up and down my spine "well we can't have that. Bed?"

I nod against him, my whole body tensing in anticipation. Although my brain is totally overwhelmed by the onslaught of information I had been told, I was on a high from our mutual confessions of love. Edward Mason _loves_ me. An elated smile spreads across my face from the thought alone.

"What are you grinning about?" Edward smiles, looking down at me.

I shrug coyly, "you love me."

Somehow his smile grows even bigger, his eyes shining like jewels. He looks eerily similar to the Cheshire cat, "yes. Yes I do. And you love me."

Slipping a hand into his wet hair, I pull his head down so that our lips are brushing against each other, "More than anything."

We kiss with a featherlike softness that makes my toes curl against Edward's thighs. He gently takes my bottom lip between the two of his, sucking on it. I exhale heavily through my nose, removing my lips from his to breathe before placing them back on again. I snake my tongue out, swirling it against his lips and then his tongue. They twine together and I can feel his erection hard against my stomach. My breasts crush against his incredible chest; and our skin slip against each other in glorious ways, delicious sounds echoing around the room.

"Bed." I say firmly.

He picks me up without further question, holding me tightly against him. The movement causes my centre to rub against him and the friction sends my eyes rolling into the back of my head.

He walks us slowly over to the bathroom counter, careful so that we don't slip on the soaking floor. I flinch as my ass meets the cold marble. Pulling away, Edward grabs a fluffy white towel from beside him and wraps it around his waist – making me pout.

He snickers at my expression, "it won't be staying on for long, don't worry."

I cross my arms over my chest like a stubborn child – "so why don't you just leave it off?"

"Because I have to focus on getting my beautiful girlfriend dry, before I make her wet all over again."

I giggle, "You are so cheesy… in a highly perverted way."

He leers at me mockingly, "I think we established a long time ago that you love my perverted ways."

I chuckle, but do not reproach him. It's true after all.

He takes another towel, and kneels before me. I raise an eyebrow at him and his suggestive position, "I thought you wanted to get me dry?"

"And you call me perverted, Isabella Swan." He shakes his head.

He takes my left leg, putting it over his shoulder. I watch him interestedly as he kisses my ankle tenderly, brushing the towel over my calf and up my thigh, towards the part that craves him most.

The torturous pattern forces me to lean back against the mirror, my eyes slipping shut as he peppers kisses up and down my leg as he dries it.

"Do you realise how insanely gorgeous you are?"

With effort, I open my eyes to look at him. He gazes up at me so earnestly, so lovingly, that tears spring to my eyes.

"You make me feel beautiful."

"That's because you are," he whispers seriously.

He begins drying my right leg in a similar fashion but this time he runs a commentary.

"Your toes are beyond adorable," he tells me, pecking the tip of my big toe "I don't even know how. I didn't ever think that feet could be cute – but somehow yours are."

"Maybe you have a foot fetish," I tease but it comes out all shaky.

Edward winks but otherwise ignores my joke, continuing his perusal of my body. He kisses the instep of my foot, before moving upwards.

"Then there are your legs... Fuck baby, I think you have the sexiest legs I have ever laid my eyes on."

I snort at that, and his eyes harden, "what? You don't think you have sexy legs?"

"Your cousin/ adopted sister is Rosalie Cullen, Edward. Who is a model, need I remind you. I don't even want to know how many catwalks or fashion shows you have seen. Or the amount of supermodels you have met."

"Bella, those models' legs are stick thin and have been lathered with fancy as fuck moisturiser to make them appear _somewhat_ good. But you? You have gorgeous, shapely legs that are smooth as silk – no moisturiser needed." His nails graze the sensitive inner part of my thigh, sending sparks through my body. I am desperate for him.

The towel moves higher, and wet, open-mouthed kisses follow it closely. At this point, I am about to grab his head and place it where I am wet most.

"You also have the sweetest, most detectable pussy."

My plea rests on the tip of my tongue, but then his mouth is right there.

"Shit!" I squeal; one hand pinches my clit whilst his tongue licks my folds in wet, hot strokes.

My head hits the mirror, sending a dull sting into my skull. But I hardly feel it as Edward's fingers enter my body, playing alongside his tongue.

"Jesus," I cry, digging my hand into his thick hair. It had been too long since I had felt Edward's mouth on my body. I would never deprive myself from this pleasure ever again.

"Edward" I pant as he nibbles as he kisses the inside of my thigh, his fingers still driving inside of me.

"Come on baby, come for me." He says urgently, his mouth returning to my clit.

I cross my ankles behind his head, holding him to me tightly.

"I-I… Uh…"

I slump down, my orgasm ripping through me something furious. Edward doesn't stop however. I don't know if the orgasm was that long or whether I came twice in a record amount of time. All I know is that my whole body feel like jello, and I need him inside me.

"I think we need to move this to the bedroom – now," he states dazedly.

I nod eagerly, reaching out for him. He hurriedly takes me into his arms, and brings me to his bedroom. The towel around his waist gets lost along the way, but neither of us is too concerned. We are so utterly consumed by one another that a natural disaster could happen and we would remain completely oblivious.

As we enter his bedroom, I kiss up and down his neck, flicking my tongue out occasionally, humming against his throat. His Adam's apple bobs up and down, as I nibble on it. The vibrations feel amazing against my tongue.

Pulling back the covers, he puts me in the middle of the bed and flicks the bedside lamp on, bathing the room in golden light.

"Now, where was I?"

He takes my wrists, pinning them above my head, and ghosts his nose down the column of my neck.

"Well, there is your hips" he kisses my hipbones "and your waist. A perfect hourglass figure… Stunning. Your curves are beyond incredible, do you know that?"

I just sigh, between his touches and words, I am surprised that I haven't turned into a puddle of goo. His tongue flicks inside my bellybutton, then drags up the centre of my body.

"Your breasts are perfect. Two perfect handfuls," he demonstrates this by taking my breasts into his hands, kneading them. I moan.

"Please, Edward."

"Please what baby? What would you like me to do? Do you want me to show you how much I love your tits?"

"Y-yes. Pleease…" I draw out the final word; his fingers pluck at my nipples, rolling them between his fingertips.

"As you wish."

While his right hand continues to pinch at my right nipple, tugging at it, his mouth takes in my left – suckling on it ardently. My back arches upwards, and my hands move to cradle the back of his head.

Edward releases my nipple with a pop, green meeting brown – "uh uh Angel. Keep your hands above your head, or I'll be forced to punish you."

To say I am intrigued by the word "punish" is an understatement. But if that punishment means more teasing and less playing, then it is in my best interest to be a good girl… for now.

I gingerly put my hands back above the bed, clutching at the rungs of the bed-frame.

He smiles with satisfaction and goes back to worshiping me.

He licks and kisses my breast, then does the same with the other. I moan as he skims his nails down the sides of my body while he sucks and bites and licks.

By the time he finishes with my breasts, they are tingling from his administrations. I whimper when he bites down on the point where my shoulder meets my neck, then swipes his tongue over my collarbones.

"Edward, Edward, Edward," I murmur over and over, whilst he licks his way up my neck. Fire rips me through like wildfire, feeling him against me. Then the pressure of his lips disappears.

"Open your eyes baby."

His face is inches from mine. He's so close that I can feel his eyelashes flutter against my skin, his breath on my lips.

Edward releases a whoosh of air when I meet his eyes. They are so fucking pretty it hurts, but I cannot look away.

He looks just as mesmerised as I do, "God. Your eyes."

His index finger dusts across my cheekbone, "They were the first things that drew me to you, you know?"

I do. He told me once, during our date at Aro's restaurant in the early days of our relationship. He told me that they were the colour of Hershey's kisses.

"I thought – and I still do – that you were the most beautiful person I has ever seen."

I remain silent, but the doubt I feel must be all over my features because he suddenly cups my face.

"You don't believe me do you?"

I simply look at him.

He searches my eyes, "why can't you see yourself the way I see you?"

I close my eyes, digesting his words. In spite of reading the likes of Shakespeare, Dickens, Austen and Bronte on a daily basis, I had never heard such beautiful words.

One word from Edward had so much power over me, and it didn't scare me one bit.

"You have doe-like eyes," he purrs "I think that's why I thought you were so young in the beginning. They are just so big and innocent. Then they are framed with these long dark eyelashes. Christ, one blink and I swear I would do anything you'd say."

"Sounds dangerous."

Edward smirks, "I am totally at your mercy."

Next, he kisses my cheek, slowly – hovering there.

"Your blush. Now that can bring me to my knees… so god damned beautiful."

As if on cue, my cheeks turn a bright pink. He chuckles, immediately feeling the heat radiate from me.

"Your nose, your lips. I don't think I could ever get sick of them."

I totally get where he's coming from. Since that night at the club we must have shared hundreds upon hundreds of kisses, but it always felt like the first. The same fire that burned then continued to coarse through me now – like wildfire, impossible to get rid of. I'm sure that he has ruined me for all other men.

No one could kiss me and evoke the same feeling Edward can. Affirming this, his lips meet mine sending sparks straight to my centre. The weight of his naked body against me combined with the wondrous movement of our lips make my pussy ache.

"I love you. So much it hurts." He says passionately.

With as much strength I can muster, I flip our bodies over so I am on top of him. He gazes up at me mollified; I press two fingers to his lips.

"I know. I can feel it. In every word you say, in every touch you bestow on my body. But I am afraid. I don't think you are aware of how much _I_ love you."

Edward's eyes are wide, but he doesn't speak. He knows that I need to get this out.

"When I first saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful man I had ever seen. Yes, beautiful, ruggedly handsome, gorgeous – all of it combined. And then you opened your mouth, and I thought you were the most arrogant asshole on the planet with your pretty smirk and overly confident stance," the same smirk appears in his face. I pinch his nipple playfully, making him yelp.

"Then we kissed. And it was so completely mind-blowing, but I chalked it up to the fact that I never really do that type of thing. That it was the adrenaline of the moment that made it so fucking good. Then there was the party fiasco, and you left me alone on the bed – I was so embarrassed by how much I wanted you. I lost all sense of a filter or self-will."

Edward looks up at me guiltily, opening his mouth to more than likely apologise, but I will not be deterred. He has been so fucking brave tonight. With my left hand, I trace the dark shadows under his eyes. The shadows that tell me about how wary he must have been over the course of the week. To confess everything that has been weighing on his mind since far beyond the beginning of our relationship.

But here we are, stronger than ever and ready to take hold of our future – bitchy adoptive mother/ aunt or not. And while he doesn't believe me, it is clear to me how strong he is. Telling me _everything_ in one night, and rehashing his painful childhood and messed up history with no restraint or hesitation. He just laid it all on the table, and I am so fucking proud of him.

And the least I can do is tell him how much he means to me.

"No Edward. It was my fault as well. I mean you were an asshole, and if you ever do that again, I'll kill you. But I am also in the wrong. First - we both were massively influenced by our lust and secondly, I totally stereotyped you. I thought you were this guy who wanted a quick fuck. Who spent all his days in a bar, flirting and fucking girls."

I run an affectionate hand through his hair, "but you aren't. You are this incredible man who is able to make me beautiful through your words alone. You're generous and thoughtful; you put so much thought into our dates and make sure that I have the best time possible. You are so dorky; you'll chat to me about the mechanics of apparition and make jokes about Disney films. You're loyal – you literally gave up your independence to Esme, just so Emmett wouldn't have to struggle with money alone. You are passionate – about music, about me, about your job. Everything you do, you put your heart and soul into.

And while you did keep secrets away from me, I get it. You were trying to protect me. You didn't want me to bear a load that you have been carrying around for so fucking long. But Edward, you aren't alone anymore. I love you."

The expression on his face is indescribable. His mouth gapes open for a few moments, like he is trying to string together a coherent sentence.

However, there are no more words.

He sits up, wrapping his strong arms around me and bringing our chests into full contact. I weave my hands through his hair and we kiss again, over and over.

He kisses every part of me he can reach, the space between my eyebrows, tip of my nose, my forehead and my cheeks.

"Edward, I need you inside me" I say as he kisses my neck. He nods against me.

I am still on top of him, so I push him gently backwards so that he is lying fully on his back.

He places his hands on my waist, helping me as I line myself up with his cock. When I lower myself on him, we both groan in pleasure. I don't stop till he is fully inside me.

"Christ Bella." Edward breathes.

And then I start moving up and down.

Ecstasy fills me. It was amazing the first time we slept together, but somehow this is more. Perhaps it's because of the knowledge that there are no secrets hanging between us anymore. Maybe it's more down to the love that is bubbling between us in the movement.

He slips his hand between us, rubbing at my clit as I bounce up and down. I moan louder at this, "you are phenomenal Bella. You look amazing, riding me."

"Edward!" I scream, my orgasm building and building to unreachable levels.

"That's it baby! Holy shit, I coming. Fuck, you are beyond incredible. So tight!"

"I love you."

"I love you."

The three words set me off, and I'm gone – my orgasm ripples through me in waves, with Edward following close behind.

I drop on top of him, his dick slipping out from me. The loss of contact makes me whimper, and our skin is slick from sweat.

"That was unbelievable," Edward gasps in our post-coital glow.

I have no energy. My head stays lolls against his chest, and I kiss the spot over his heart.

"I love you Edward Mason."

"You are my everything, Isabella Swan."

…

Four times.

It doesn't fully register until I full wake up at one o'clock in the afternoon, the following day.

The first thing I feel is the soreness between my legs. But it's a good soreness… the best kind. Like I just had the best workout of my life.

The faint ache mirrors that of my throat. We must have talked into the early hours of the morning. Between my speech, our conversation and screams – well… I think its safe to say, my voice has been run ragged.

Giggling to myself huskily, I open my eyes. The sun streams through the curtains. Towels strung across the wooden floor, besides the comforter that we had tossed off sometime during the night. To my right however, I am surprised to find – not the muscular back of my handsome boyfriend – but a single piece of paper.

I sit up heavily and open the note.

 _Bella –_

 _There was an incident at Eclipse last night. Nothing that we haven't experienced before, but Emmett needed me. I should be back soon with our breakfast. Be free to take a shower or something, what's mine is yours._

 _Love you,_

 _E x_

I smile at his cursive writing, ghosting my fingers over them last three words. God. I still couldn't get my head around it… Would it always be like this?

There was that nagging voice at the back of my head – the part that witnessed the aftermath of my parent's divorce, that begged to differ. But a much larger, optimistic side of me knew that this thing Edward and I had was forever.

I slowly get out of bed, walking over to the chest of drawers at the side of the room. I grab another pair of Edward's boxers, but as I move to get a t-shirt – I spot the white button up shirt he wore the night before.

Grinning evilly to myself I take that instead, and skip to the shower – ignoring the omnipresent ache.

…

One shower and two cups of tea later, I am standing in front of Edward's impressive guitar collection. There are at least six of them – all extremely shiny and expensive looking.

I lean forward inspecting the third one in line. It's a glossy brown and white with an odd, retro looking shape.

"That one is called 'Jude.'"

I leap away from the beautiful instrument, hand over my chest.

Turning sharply in the direction of the voice, I find Edward leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, watching me amusedly.

"Jesus, Edward! You need to get a goddamned bell. Shit." I narrow my eyes at him playfully.

He grins at my expression and walks over to me, his eyes greedily taking in my attire. In return, my eyes hungrily rake over his body – even after having several, earth-shattering rounds of love making, I feel this inexplicable urge to mount him.

His black jeans hang low on his hips, and his pale blue t-shirt highlights his lean muscles. I unconsciously lick my lips at the sight of him. All mine.

"Did you sort it?" I ask shakily, trying to keep the lust from out of my voice – unsuccessfully, I might add.

He shrugs, unconcerned "a couple of minors tried to break in to the main bar in the early hours of this morning. Thankfully, the security alarm went off so Emmett and the cops got down there before any real damage could be done. They needed to talk to both owners before carrying out any charges."

"And did you? Charge them?"

He pulls my body to his and strong arms surround my waist; a long contented sigh leaves my lips. I embrace him, resting my chin against his chest.

"Nah, they were just kids – barely sixteen. We gave them one hell of a warning though, like I said; Emmett can be quite intimidating when he wants to be."

"Oh? So you're the brains and he's the muscle?" I trail my fingertips down the sensitive part of his neck, over his pecks and down to his abs, then back. He shivers slightly under my touch.

"Hey. I have muscles too. You would know…"

I chuckle, and stand on my tiptoes to kiss him. I can feel his smile, which automatically make the corners of lips upturn.

We stand there, taken in by the light heartedness of the moment.

He teases the top button of his/my shirt, flicking it back and forth.

"You're going to break it if you carry on, and I am quite partial to this shirt."

"Hmm," Edward breathes, his fingers dancing away from the buttons and to the collar of the shirt. He brings it down with agonising slowness, revealing my bare shoulder. My eyelids flutter as he places an open mouthed kiss against it, I can feel his long eyelashes against my skin – light and perfect.

"S-so… uh. J-Jude?"

As he chuckles, his teeth graze my skin. I squeeze my thighs together in response.

"It's a replica of Paul McCartney's guitar. Hence the name."

I laugh breathlessly, "geek."

His hand travels up the length of my thigh "are you sore?"

At his question, that dull ache makes itself known again. I groan.

"Yes," I say regretfully, pulling myself away "I am not used to marathon sex."

Edward snickers, "well, hopefully with a little practice…"

"Uh huh. We'll see."

I turn back to his guitars, resting against his body a little.

"You have so many."

His chin meets my shoulder, "Like you said – I am a music geek. But my favourite isn't actually here…"

I tilt my head towards him, raising an eyebrow; "oh? Then why isn't it displayed with these ones?"

"It's not as flashy as these ones. And it's a bit more personal. Come, I'll show you."

We entwine our hands together, and he tugs me to his sofa.

"Wait here."

I sit obediently, crossing my legs. He jogs out of the room and I here the faint sound of a door banging.

Not a minute later, he returns with a beaten acoustic guitar with scribblings all over it.

But he holds it with such care and reverence, as though it is Jude.

Edward places his gentle into my hands – "it was my mother's. My dad gave it to her."

My eyes flash to his, before shooting back to the instrument in my hands.

"How'd you know your dad gave it to her?"

He turns it over, where there is a message engraved into the back.

"To my darling Elizabeth, for bringing the sweetest music into my life. Love always, Edward."

I smile at the words.

I turn it back over, reading the bits of writing that cover the body of the guitar.

Some of it is written in a slanted hand, similar to Edwards, while other bits are written in more upright script. They are mostly lyrics to love songs, but there are also more personal notes that belong in a love letter.

"I think my dad wrote some of this" Edward says, confirming what I suspect.

"It's beautiful."

And it is. Sure, it isn't as extravagant as Jude or the other guitars Edward has but there is something so organic and honest about this one.

"I always wanted to learn how to play a guitar," I murmur.

"Really? Why didn't you?"

"My mom kind of put me off. The guitar was one of her harebrained adventures. But she couldn't for the life of her, play it."

I shudder at the memory of her rendition of 'Sweet Child of Mine.'

I look at Edward, who watches me thoughtfully. He then moves closer to me, so our thighs are completely touching. His left arm comes over me, bringing my left hand up to encircle the neck of the guitar.

"What are you doing?"

I can feel his shrug, "teaching you how to play the guitar."

He picks my right hand up and puts it on the strings. He is so close, that his lip brushes over the shell of my ear and I can feel the warmth of his body all over my body.

"Okay," he whispers – despite us being the only two in the apartment, "this is E."

Our fingers rest over the top string, plucking it softly. With the other hand he presses our fingers over the strings, so that the sound is almost tuneful.

"A," he says, doing the same with the next.

This pattern continues as he goes over the name of the strings, but to be honest – all I can really take in is him: the close proximity, the smell of sandalwood, and his heart thrumming against my arm.

He moves our hands so that we are strumming. There is no tune or specific song we are playing.

I turn my head so that our noses and foreheads are practically touching. Who knew that guitar playing could be so damned erotic?

It seems that Edward thinks this as well, because the guitar is no longer in my hands. He places it on the coffee table before kneeling in front of me.

Then our lips touch.

Lips. Hands. Skin.

He twiddles with the top button of our shirt, but gets impatient. He ends up ripping the shirt apart – buttons flying in every direction.

"Edward!" I gasp through my laughter "I liked that shirt!"

"I'll buy you a thousand of them," He says against my neck.

Our shirts find themselves on the floor within no time, and I am straddling Edward on the floor. Soreness forgotten.

As I hover over him, my hair falls in a curtain over my shoulder. He reaches up, tucking it behind my ear, and then cradling my neck, he brings my head down so that he can kiss me.

There is no foreplay or words. I know what he is saying through his movements alone.

All there is love. Then moving. Pounding. Pounding.

And explosions.

…

We lie there on the floor, too tired to move. My head lies on his chest, arm across his waist while he plays with my hair with one hand and strokes my arm with the other.

"Esme called me when I was walking back home."

I look up, but all I see is chin.

"She did?"

"Yeah. She basically tore me a new one for ditching the Gala and…"

Suddenly his whole body tenses, and all movement ceases. I immediately sit up in concern.

"Edward?"

He squeezes his eyes close, "Shit. I completely forgot. I mean as soon as I saw you in my shirt, it just escaped me –"

"What did you forget? Edward? You're scaring me!"

Edward sits up with me, he strokes the top of my leg comfortingly.

"Last night, someone took a picture of us leaving the hotel. Someone must have had me followed from the Gala… I am so fucking sorry Bella, if I had known…"

I blink. Holy shit.

I leap up, running to his room.

"Bella?" Edward calls worriedly.

I hear his heavy footsteps behind me as I rummage through my clutch. His body sidles up behind me.

"Bella? I'm so sorry."

25 missed calls, 10 voice messages and 17 texts. All from Alice. And… what the fuck? Fifty-seven DM's on Instagram? I hadn't spoken to Lauren Mallory since High School!

 _Have a good night babe! Gonna have an early one – probs going to watch last week's Riverdale. Let me know how your speech went!xx_

 _OMG Bells, Juggie is in mortal peril!xx_

 _BELLA! OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG! I JUST GOT AN E! NEWS UPDATE! CALL ME ASAP!_

 _ISABELLA, THIS NEWS CANNOT BE DELIVERED OVER TEXT! CALL ME!_

 _BELLAAAAA – ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE BITCH!_

 _I SWEAR TO GOD BELLA, IF YOU DON'T ANSWER…_

 _Fuck. Bella – Edward is Anthony. As in the elusive Anthony Cullen! He is all over E! Holy fuck, this is insane!_

 _Bella… he's leaving! Shit, where the hell is he going? Have you spoken to him? FUCKING HELL, BELLA! ANSWER. I AM LOSING MY MIND._

 _OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG_

 _BELLA YOU ARE ON E!_

 _THIS IS AMAZING! YOU GUYS LOOK HOT AS FUCK!_

 _As soon as you guys are done fucking, give your girl a call? I think I nearly had a heart attack!_

 _Just to let you know – the press are calling you 'Brunette Beauty'. Hell yeah! TMZ, Gossip Cop, Hollywood Life. You're famous Bella!_

"Oh. My. God."

When my legs begin to wobble, Edward puts his hands on my shoulders – leading me to the bed.

"T-they took a picture."

I vaguely feel Edward's thumb rubbing circles on the palm of my hand.

"I know. I tried to get E! To take it off their site, but by the time I rang – well. You know the Internet. It was everywhere. I am so sorry baby."

I smile half-heartedly, "it's not your fault. You didn't ask for this to happen. I just didn't think… God, I better call Alice."

Edward nods solemnly, "want me to leave?"

"Just give me a moment. I'll be fine."

He smiles sadly at me, "I'll go make us something to eat."

"Sounds good."

He reluctantly leaves me, but I am already tapping in Alice's number.

I don't even get in a word before she begins talking.

"Seriously? Five fucking thirty? Have you _only_ just come up for air? Why is life so unfair? Not only are you dating New York's most eligible bachelor but also while I am weeping over Riverdale, eating Cheetos and fucking pregnant – you are having marathon sex! God. I am so horny. I miss Jazzy."

"Alice…"

God her hormones must be driving her crazy…

"Hang on! I get why you weren't answering your phone, but… did you seriously not know that Edward was THEE Anthony Cullen?"

"No – of course I didn't! That was the big secret. That was what he wasn't telling me!"

"Why the hell not? It's not like he is in the mafia? Or is he? Fuck, that would be a plot twist! And it's not like you are some kind of gold digger!"

"He knows that Ali. It's not like that! It's a bit more complex… It's a long story."

"Well, you can tell me about it later. In the meantime, I will send you the photo that everyone is talking about! I swear B; you are going to be the talk of the city! The next power couple of New York."

"So no one has said anything bad?" I ask hopefully.

"Fuck no! Well, there were a few jealous bitches in the comment section of one site, but I shut down that shit right away. Besides that, everyone is talking about how stunning you two are Bella! I mean I know the situation is far from ideal, but imagine if they caught you guys during a run to the grocery store? Or worse - while you were at work, with no one to defend you! You are always beautiful, but you look beyond gorgeous in these pics."

I exhale deeply. It was a good choice to call Alice before discussing this any further with Edward. She knew exactly what to say to calm me down.

"Thanks Al."

"I've sent them to you on Whatsapp. Go check them out! We can have a girly catch up later!"

"Okay, cool."

"You'll be fine Bella," she says in a much more softer voice "you look so in love. Don't let this get in the way of that, love you."

"Thanks Al, love you too."

As if on cue, my phone bleeps with a picture message. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, I open the picture. And – wow.

The picture was taken outside the hotel, when we were looking for a ride back to Edward's. Edward looks just as perfect as he did last night (although the picture does pale in comparison to how he looks in real life.) He stands straight in that ink black suit, both arms wrapped around my waist securely. The way he holds me, with such care makes my heart melt.

I stand in the encirclement of his arms, staring into his eyes with the happiest goddamn smile ever. We look so in love – looking at each other as though we are the only people in the world. My hair spills in curls over his arms, and my right hand rests on his chest whilst the other is holding him to me.

Seeing the picture – a visual of the love we have for each other brings tears to my eyes.

Unable to contain myself, I run to the kitchen – only stopping in the living room to pull on Edward's blue t-shirt.

The kitchen is filled with a wonderful, spicy smell and my mouth instantly waters. Edward stands topless in front of the stove; the strong lines of his back prominent.

As soon as hears my approach he turns, a wary look marring his face.

"Baby…"

I simply cup his face and kiss him tenderly. His lips are frozen for a second, surprised by my movement – but its not long after, until his lips return my kiss.

I smile, pulling away – "I love you."

He grins, "I love you too."

"I saw the picture…"

"Oh?" he furrows his brows.

"It's… it's…"

"Perfect?" he inserts, his crooked smile appearing shyly.

I nod happily, "it is."

He kisses me on the forehead, turning back to the food quickly.

"Is fajitas okay with you?"

"Sounds great! I am so hungry."

"I have to work tonight," he says ruefully "and I know you are probably exhausted from last night but…"

"I would love to come," I say quickly. After a whole week of not having him by my side, and the night we had before – I really didn't want to part with him again.

He sends me an ecstatic smile over his shoulder, "Thank God. I really didn't want to leave you. I don't know if that sounds really clingy but…"

"I get it. Trust me."

I sit at the kitchen counter, resting my chin against my hand as I watch Edward cook. Seriously, is there anything sexier than watching a man cook? And a topless one at that!

"Oh, uh – there's also something I wanted to ask you."

His voice sounds nervous. I don't like the sound.

"What is it?"

"Well, you remember when I said Esme called?"

My eyes widen with realisation, "Oh shit, yeah! What did she say about the picture?"

Edward hesitates, "she wasn't too happy to be honest. She was furious that I left the Gala. I have to 'make up for it' apparently."

My hands ball up into tight fists. What a bitch! After everything she has done, how can she think that _he_ owes _her?_

"What the hell did she want?" I seethe.

Edward faces me, a bitter look on his face "I have to go to Rosalie's Halloween Bash next weekend."

I marginally relax – _marginally._

"Oh. That doesn't seem… so bad? I mean will it be anything like that party she held the last time?"

He shakes his head, "I wish. That is laid back in comparison. No, this is more similar to Esme and Carlisle's style of party. Rosalie holds a big event where she invites her 'friends' and Esme's friends. It's basically a way for her to establish herself as the next socialite. It's absolute bullshit."

"And you have to go?"

"It's either that or something far more public. She has this hold on me Bella. I have been in it for years – to be honest, I feel lucky to have avoided this for so long."

"But you shouldn't feel like that Edward! You are a grown man, you should get to decide where and when you want to go!"

Edward looks ashamed, which makes me feel guilty. He explained everything to me; why he is so entwined with Esme and her scheme and here I am, making him feel even more emasculated.

I walk up to him with slow, purposeful steps.

"Baby, I get it. She has got you – but we need to get you out."

"You think I haven't tried to cut her loose Bella? I told you – her hold on me… it runs so far deep. It's not going to be easy. I have tried and tried."

"You were alone before," I soothe him "but I am going to help you Edward. It may take time, but not everyone is perfect. There is going to be some sort of chink in her armour. We just have to find it."

He looks at me deeply, "I literally have no idea how I got so lucky."

I snuggle into his arms, "We'll get through this Edward. I promise you."

His whole body shudders with emotion, and I can feel his breath against my hair.

"Come with me."

"What?"

"Come with me to Rosalie's Halloween party next week."

My eyebrows disappear into my hairline, "Rosalie's? I'm meeting Esme and Carlisle?"

His hands grip the top of my arms, pushing me back lightly.

"When I went to the Gala last night, it was the most alone I had felt since… well in a very long time. I felt like a child again. Greeting and talking to people who I didn't know, people who only know or care about me for my name and money. They just wanted gossip. It was just so fucking lonely. And all I could think about was you – what you were doing, how you were feeling. I wanted to be by your side at the ball, to walk in with you, to meet all your friends. I get if you don't want to go –"

I place my index finger over his lips, silencing him "of course I'll go."

He kisses my finger, eyes glittering.

As we begin plating up our food, my mind mulls over the idea of meeting the Cullen family. And then something hits me.

"Edward?"

"Hmm?"

"What the hell are we going to wear?"

…

"I can't believe you are going to Eclipse and Edward didn't even have to force you. The guy must have some sort of voodoo."

I roll my eyes, "zip me up?"

Alice walks over to me.

"Bella?" she whispers.

"Yeah?"

"Anthony Cullen is in our kitchen."

I chuckle at her awed tone, "Alice, how many times has Edward been over?"

"I know, I know. You know I'm kidding. It's still crazy though. I used to cut out his sister's pictures from magazines."

I look at her, confused "what the hell?"

"For fashion inspiration Bella, Rosalie Cullen is a Burberry model remember! Imagine if she wore one of _my_ designs." Her eyes glaze over, "it would be epic!"

I smooth my hands over the sparkly purple dress I am wearing. It has thin spaghetti straps, highlights every curve and a deep neckline.

"You look fabulous Bells," Alice comments, tugging at my high ponytail. Her voice sounds wistful.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?"

She sits cross-legged on my bed, picking at the loose thread of her t-shirt. Her black hair is mussed a little, and there are dark bags beneath her eyes. Despite being pregnant, her little body swims in one of Jasper's old baseball jerseys.

I sit next to her, stroking her back "you need to call him Ali. This is driving you mad. It can't be good for the baby."

She doesn't even flinch at the word 'baby' which is progress in itself, "I can't Bella. He will hate me. I have destroyed his future."

"Alice, there are several things wrong with that statement. First, you don't _know_ if he is going to hate you. He loves you Al, I have seen the way he looks at you! And don't you think it would hurt him _more_ if he never knew his own child? Plus, you didn't destroy his future Alice. It takes two to make a baby and sure, you both could've been more responsible – but it's done."

Alice sniffs, "I know…"

"Do you? You gave me good advice about Edward Alice – don't you think you should be applying that to your own relationship?"

"I'm scared, B."

I smile at her, "of course Ali. This is huge. But you have a man who loves you and a network of friends to support you. We'll be with you every step of the way."

A tear runs down her cheek, "I love you – do you know that? And if Edward/Anthony, whatever, ever hurts you – I am going to kill him."

I grin, "Right back at you Ali."

We embrace tightly, "do you want me to stay with you?"

"No! Go! Have fun with your handsome boyfriend. Then we will have night in tomorrow, yeah?"

"Sound good."

A knock on my bedroom door breaks us apart. Edward leans against the doorframe, looking gorgeous in his customary Eclipse black tee, jeans and black boots. He smiles at us affectionately.

"Sorry to break this up," he says apologetically.

Alice giggles, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand "it's okay. You two kids have fun."

I laugh, standing up "think about what I said, yeah?"

"I will," she says meaningfully "but right now I have a date with Klaus."

"Well lets get going then."

Edward holds out his hand to me, to which I take gratefully. The black sandals I am wearing are thick but a little taller than what I am used to.

"You look stunning," Edward tells me, kissing my hand.

"Ugh, you guys are sickening. Go on - get lost, lovebirds."

…

I sat at the bar, watching Edward serving customers.

His pretty smirk drew both girls and many guys like a moth to flame. Every so often, his eyes would make their way back to me at the end of the bar and that confident, cocky look would melt into that soft, loving one that I am so used to.

"Blake! How are you?"

I grin as Emmett settles in front of me, a huge smile on his boyish face.

"I'm good thanks Em! You?"

"Even better now that you are here – Ryan was a fucking mess without you. I was going to go to your apartment and beg for your forgiveness on his behalf."

"I heard," I look down at my hands.

"Hey, it's all in the past now Amal. I am just happy you guys are good again. I don't think I'd be able to believe in love again if you two didn't make it."

I roll my eyes.

"It's the truth" he says honestly, "and also – what's this about you hooking D up with some hottie from College? What about me?"

"How'd you hear about that?" I laugh.

"D came in just now with the smuggest smile I have ever seen, lucky bastard."

"Well I will keep an eye out for some hot blondes for you, Em."

He wipes an imaginary tear away mockingly, "I knew there was a reason I loved you. "

We chat for another five minutes before Emmett is dragged away to serve someone.

I sip on my Jack and Coke, eyes on Edward while he makes a drink for some redhead who will not take her eyes off his ass. She looks hungry, and I am a second away from throwing myself over to the bar to rip her hair out of her head.

"Hey beautiful."

I jerk away from my staring, to look at the guy who sat next to me. His brown hair flops into his eyes and his eyes are extremely dark. He looks young; the only thing that would make me think he is older than me is the thick stubble.

I raise an inquisitive eyebrow, "do I know you?"

"No, but I really want to know you. The name is Randall but you can call me Randy."

I release a loud laugh, wow, this guys thinks he is smooth. How deluded.

"Sorry _Randy_ but I have a boyfriend."

He shrugs, "what he doesn't know, can't hurt him."

At that, a disgusted look twists my face.

"Look-"

"No, but he can hurt _you._ "

Randall's eyes grow comically large "uh-"

"Now, I know despite that fucking pathetic attempt to grow a beard, that you are below age. So step the fuck away from _my_ girlfriend and out of my club, or I'll escort you out myself."

Randall looks like he is about to shit himself as he half runs out of the club. Edward's steely look and tense stance paired with his stern words have a strange effect on my body. Suddenly, all I need is him.

"Edward?"

He immediately deflates "oh shit, I am sorry Bella. I know you could've handled it, but all I could think was… well, you're mine. And that asshole – he can't have you."

His possessive tone should have turned me straight off, but my panties grow impossibly wetter.

"Edward?"

"What?"

I stand up, placing both hands on his shoulders. I drag him to me, caressing his ear with my lips.

"Can you go on break now?"

He breathes sharply through his nose, "I-"

I run my fingers down the centre of his body towards his belt buckle, lingering teasingly.

"Fuck. Let's go."

I hurriedly run to the door labelled 'STAFF'.

"Em! I am taking a break!"

"Dude, you had a break an hour ago!"

"Well then, I am taking _tomorrow's_ break!"

"You son of a bitch."

Edward runs over to me, "office?"

Hell no. I was not having 'the box' incident ever again "alley."

"Jesus Christ Bella."

I pull him through the back exit into the deserted alleyway. The crisp air feels heavenly against my hot skin. I push him against the rough, brick wall and fall to my knees.

"Bella – holy shit."

I get his jeans and boxers down to his ankles in record time. His cock stands at full attention. I lick my right hand, and move it up and down his length at just the right pressure. I hear his curses as his hands meet my hair.

I take his dick into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the head, then down the side.

As I start bobbing up and down, a throaty groan escapes him.

"Bella. Fuck Bella. Just like that – SHIT."

I swallow, his orgasm coming in waves.

"That was fucking incredible," he gasps.

He pulls me off my knees and turns us so that I am the one with my back against the wall.

His trousers and boxers are still pooled around his feet. He picks me up by the thighs – and I slide up the wall with my legs wrapped around his waist. The wall scrapes against my skin but the pain is somehow pleasurable.

Edward's frantic wet kisses along my neck and face feel absolutely amazing.

"This okay?"

"More than" I cry "Please Edward!"

His left hand holds me up against the wall as his right one rips the lacy panties right off my body. They were ruined anyway.

"Fuck, Edward."

"You ready, baby?"

"Please!"

He thrusts upward filling me wholly.

"Harder!"

He drives into me harder and faster, making me scream. The feeling of him inside me, the wall against my skin, his lips sucking my ear are fucking indescribable.

"EDWAAAARD!"

"I'm coming baby!"

"Meee tooooo."

"Shit!"

He comes, and I follow closely behind.

"I fucking love you. Shit."

He sounds so tired but so sated, I dazed smile lights my face.

"I fucking love you too."

"Home?"

I stare at him, "what about work?"

"Emmett owes me a favour, right now all I want is to lie in bed with my girl."

I kiss him with as much passion I can muster: "Let's go home."

 _ **A/N: Hello again! Hope you liked this chapter, please let me know what you think! Now – big question. I have a very faint idea of what I want Edward and Bella to dress up as for Rosalie's Halloween bash – but what do you think? Let me know, if you have any ideas! Remember, she will be amongst the highest socialites of New York so nothing outrageously sexy (sadly ;D). Love you all.**_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Hello! I have spent the last few weeks re-editing the previous chapter so that they are all in the same tense (which took me waaay longer than I thought) but at last - Chapter 14 is here, and warning – this one is JAM PACKED! It has taken a while to get it all done, but it's here and I am literally so excited to write the next one! Thank you to all of you who gave ideas for the Halloween costumes, I am glad I am not the only one who struggled to think of some! XD. A few of you said the one I have chosen, so a special shout out to 2brown-eyes, pinklady34 and Lilypad10. One other person gave me a great idea for another character's costume – but that wont be revealed till next time ;)**_

 _ **Thank you for all the reviews, favourites and follows – as always, I am amazed by how many of you are enjoying my story. Please continue to share your thoughts with me. I know this is a slow burner of a story (mostly because of my rubbish updating schedule) but this story will not go unfinished – ever. The next chapter is a biggie so please review, and tell me what you want to see happen next!**_

 _ **Lots of love to you all and I hope you enjoy! xo**_

 _ **14.**_

I swing our interlinked hands together playfully, making Edward chuckle.

"You're in a good mood," he observes.

"Mmm, I wonder why…" I pretend to think, tapping my chin with my free hand. Is it a result of the multiple orgasms I had experienced last night? Or the further three I had this morning? I have lost count really.

Chortling at the smug smile on my face, he draws me forward to kiss me full on the mouth. We laugh against each other, our teeth clicking.

His fingers thread through the hair on the base of my neck, holding me to him – as if I would ever escape. The way his lips move against mine makes me want to rewind back to earlier this morning. Tangled in his bed sheets; our sticky bodies joint together in vigorous movement; the scent of our lovemaking thick in the air.

When things begin to get a little heated; me grinding against his hard on while his hands move to my ass - we are forced apart by the ding of the elevator. Edward re-buttons the top of his shirt that I had managed to pull apart during our brief tryst. The cheeky smirk on his face is totally infectious.

"Oh, shut it," I push him away lightly.

He moves back to me, kissing me on the nose "don't worry baby; I like that you can't keep your hands off me."

"Carry on with that attitude, and I can assure you – I'll be keeping these hands all to myself."

"Can I watch?" he wiggles his eyebrows, impishly.

"You wish. Weirdo."

"I kid, I kid. Anyway, what are you guys going to do tonight?"

"Oh you know… the usual. Half-naked pillow fights and practice make out sessions."

His eyes glaze for a split second; he shakes his head with lust "you have been spending way too much time with Emmett."

I widen my eyes, "His level of crudeness cannot be matched."

"True."

"Nah, we'll probably watch trash television, eat junk food and online shop. Alice hasn't physically shopped since before the ball."

"A full four days without shopping?" Edward mock gasps, "the horror!"

"Hey! That is an actual record for Alice! The shop assistants probably miss her, she knows a lot of them by name at this point."

"Well they aren't the only ones."

Edward and I come to an abrupt stop at the familiar voice. Stuck in our little bubble, neither of us had noticed the hunched form of Jasper at the end of the hallway.

"Jazz…"

He looks _awful._ Sitting in front of our blue door, his shaggy blonde hair is untidy and a little greasy. There are dark circles under his eyes, not unlike Edward's when I had first seen him at the ball. His khaki green t-shirt and grey jeans are creased and the laces of his sneakers are untied, as though he just jammed his feet in with haste.

I have never seen him appear so unkempt. He looks as exhausted and distressed as Alice. It just cements the thought that this can't go on any longer. The truth has to come out, for both their sakes.

"What are you doing here?"

Edward holds out a hand, heaving Jasper up.

"It has nearly been two weeks Bella… Two _weeks,_ " Jasper yanks at his hair. _"_ I… I can't do this anymore! I love her but this is killing me. If she wants us to break up, she needs to tell me to my face because I can't go on second-guessing myself. It's not fair."

The Jasper I know usually has this calm aura around him; not this crazed and impatient energy, but I can also understand it. The emotion I see etched across Jasper's face is the same one I held mere days before my chat with Edward.

I place a comforting hand on his forearm, "I get it Jazz. But she doesn't want to break up with you. She _adores_ you."

"Then why Bella? If she does not want us to break up, why treat me with such animosity? I brought her soup the other day, thinking that my girlfriend was ill and do you know what she does? She scrunches her nose up, looks like she is going to throw up and then shoves me out of the door! Not one word or one gesture to show me that we are good... What the hell is going on?"

I glance at Edward helplessly, but his attention locks on Jasper.

"Jazz, man… I know it is tough, but Alice is struggling as well."

Jasper's hands form into tight fists at his sides, his face blooming an angry red.

"Then why is she fucking _doing_ this? Why wont my girlfriend who apparently _adores me_ ,"he spits out the word "and is feeling the same pain I feel, isn't letting me in the same room as her? I have been here all night, and she won't even talk to me through the fucking door!"

"I am going in to see her Jasper. I'll see what's going on and convince her," I turn to Edward "this has gone on long enough. _No more,_ I am sick of secrets."

That haunted look in his eyes that has somewhat disappeared over the last few days, flashes through them briefly. He simply nods at my words.

"Don't come in until I say, okay?"

Jasper reluctantly agrees, his head dropping forward in resignation.

I quickly unlock the door, noting that she had triple locked it and edge my way in. The hallway is very empty and quiet, which worries me. When Alice is alone, there is always something going on, perhaps the TV or radio, or her chatting (on the phone, but mostly to herself). I cannot even hear her crying.

At first instinct, I enter the bathroom; but she isn't there. With my concern growing, I call out her name.

"Al? Alice?"

I hear a faint hiccup in response, immediately nursing my worry. Following the noises, I slowly approach Alice's room and open the door.

It's a strange feeling when I step inside. Alice's room is so bright. There are sketches plastering one wall, and collages of different models and outfits. Then on the neighbouring wall, Alice has painted wild swirls of colour, displaying her artistic talent. The comforter is a canary yellow, matching the fluffy carpet on the floor.

Yet, despite all the colour and frivolity, the atmosphere is downright sombre. I don't know if it is the because of the grey midday light that bathes the room, or the fact that there is smashed glass scattered over the wooden floor. I quickly find the source, which is a now destroyed picture frame of her and Jasper.

Alice lies in fetal position, on top of her unmade bed. She hasn't even looked up to see me; her whole body just shakes with broken sobs.

I step carefully over the glass, and wordlessly sit next to her hunched form. As the bed dips under my weight, Alice peeps up at me. Her face is a splotchy red and her grey eyes are unbearably sad. Her hair sticks to her face from the tears.

I stroke the strands off her face.

"Why didn't you call me when he arrived Al?"

It pains me to think that she has been in this state all night, while I was rolling around in bed with Edward. I feel ashamed of my selfishness. What kind of friend does that?

She rubs her eyes, "because you and Edward have finally fixed things Bella. You have put up with me all week; all my moans and cravings and mood swings. I didn't want to disturb you."

"Alice, you know that whenever you are upset, angry – whatever – I want to know. Now what is the real reason?"

"That is the real reason!" She cries, "and…"

"And?"

"I didn't want you to be disappointed in me," She weeps – scrunching her eyes closed.

"Now why on earth do you think _I'm_ disappointed?"

Her breath comes out in a shudder "b-because I haven't told him yet."

"Oh sweetie," I sigh "I'm not disappointed. We talked about this. All I am concerned about is how this will effect you and the baby."

She whimpers "I am already a shit mother. I know all this stress isn't good for her, but I am being so selfish. I don't even know how to get the words out and I have thought about how this conversation would go, repeatedly. How pathetic is that?"

I held back my thoughts when she was talking, aware that she needed to get all her worries out and in the open – but my fury builds at her words. I refrain from doing so (although with effort) and grip her hands between mine.

"Mary Alice Brandon, you are _not_ a shit mother. You are a young woman who is madly in love with someone and is _scared_ to tell him the truth. You think you are the only person who has ever been this situation? You are not pathetic Alice. Where is my independent, argumentative little pixie gone? Where is the woman who fights me tooth and nail when I am too afraid or lazy to do something? Huh?"

She looks at her hands, "It's a little different Bella."

"Like hell it is!"

I stand up and start pacing in front of her, the anger making itself known. This is it; I have coddled her too much. She needs to hear what I am about to say.

"Alice, I love you and you're my best friend, my sister. However, what I am going to tell you is for your own good" _here we go_ "You need to suck it up and just tell him! How, can you say you have destroyed his future, when his future literally lives _inside_ of you? Out there, is a broken man who thinks he has done something wrong and you haven't attempted to correct him or even lessen this unnecessary guilt.

You have allowed him to wallow in his misery. Do you think that is fair? You say you want to protect him, but this is just hurting both of you. I don't think you are a pathetic mother. That little baby is going to be the luckiest kid in the world because they are going to have a strong, ambitious mother who loves fiercely and is loyal to a fault. But, they deserve to also have a father. And Jasper, while he is also young, is one of the most genuine people I have ever come across and I know that he will want to know this baby. Like you said – it's a product of both of your love."

Her eyes are round as she ogles me, digesting what I just said. I think this is the first time Alice has seen me legitimately angry. I usually manage to maintain it, or logically talk myself out of the emotion. After all this secret keeping and hearing Alice's repetitive reasoning, I have reached my peak.

"Fucking let go of me! Alice? Alice!"

I spin around, to see Jasper in the doorway, chest heaving and eyes wild. I glare at Edward over his shoulder.

"He caught me off guard!" Edward defends.

"Jasper, I told you to wait…"

"I have waited Bella, ten fucking minutes! I can't wait anymore."

"She's trying Jasper!"

"Then maybe she should try harder!" He snaps at me.

Edward lets out a low growl before stepping forward and placing a firm hand on Jasper's shoulder. Jasper turns to look at him regretfully.

"I get you are upset Jasper," he says in a low voice "but if you fucking talk to her like that again, I'll fucking throw you out of this goddamned building."

Jasper slowly exhales, and nods once. His gaze locks onto mine.

"I'm sorry Bella. I'm… I'm just frustrated. And confused, so fucking confused."

"It's okay Jazz, I get it."

Jasper walks further into the room, eyes fixing on Alice. Alice remained silent throughout the whole exchange, but her attention has never left Jasper. The way she stares at him suggests that she is almost trying to memorise him. As if she has already accepted that, he's going to leave.

"Jazz…" she gasps, standing up.

He holds up a hand, "wait. Let me get this out… Alice Brandon, I have loved you from the first moment I ever laid eyes on you and I thought you felt the same way – "

"I do!" she interjects, stunned "I do love you Jasper – "

"Then what is going on?" he asks, his voice breaking "Why haven't you fucking answered my calls or texts? Or answered the fucking door? Why have I been playing Chinese whispers with your best friend? Will you tell me what's going on?"

"I – I…"

She gapes at me helplessly. We stare at one another; grey into brown, communicating silently.

 _I know – I am just so scared._

 _I get it, but this was inevitable Ali._

 _What if he leaves?_

 _But what if he_ doesn't?

"Would someone say _something?_ I can't do this anymore!"

"She's –" I start.

"I need to hear it from _her,_ Bella."

"Can't you see how difficult this is for her?"

"I do! But I want to make it less _difficult_ for her. And I can't do that if she isn't telling me what's going on!"

"It's not as simple as…"

"I'm fucking pregnant Jasper!"

I swear the temperature drops three degrees and all the life is sucked from the room; I don't know where to look first.

At Alice – who has tears coursing over her cheeks, one hand over her mouth in shock as she watches the father of her unborn baby with fearful eyes.

Then there is Jasper – whose feet are planted to the spot, frozen. What little colour he had in his skin drains away and his body starts shaking. A range of emotions flickers over his face: shock; anger; surprise; sadness but most importantly, hope. Then he looks like is going to vomit.

I open my mouth, wanting to fill the silence but in my peripheral vision, Edward shakes his head in warning.

It is as though time stands still as we just stand there. Edward behind Jasper and Alice behind me, their gazes never leaving each other as Edward and I awkwardly watch the stand off. It occurs to me that we should leave, but my feet are stuck to the spot.

It feels as though a year has past, when Jasper finally begins to speak.

"I… you… we… what?"

Alice sniffles, "I'm pregnant."

A single tear drips down Jasper's cheek making Alice whimper in pain.

"How long have you known?"

Alice cries harder.

"How long Alice?" He shouts loudly, causing us all to flinch.

"T-two weeks."

Jasper closes his eyes, his fingers massaging his temples as he wraps his mind around that fact that he is going to be a father. I again find this inexplicable urge to say something; but I hold my tongue. This only involves them two, and this moment has been on the cards from the moment Alice saw the results of the pregnancy test.

"Excuse me for a minute."

He turns around and runs from the room. At this, Alice collapses on the bed, her weeps turning into agonising sobs.

"Bella, you stay with Alice; I'll go after Jasper." Edward tells me, grim determination settling on his features.

"But-"

"Trust me."

He leaves without another word. I fall beside my best friend, collecting her against me. Her salty tears soak through my shirt as she cries, "I knew he'd leave. I had hoped… but he left! He fucking left us."

Then unbelievably, she starts hugging her stomach. It is the most affection I have ever seen Alice show towards her baby, but the heart-warming moment is clouded by the grief that Jasper has left behind.

I hold onto her tightly, as though that would somehow keep her from falling apart. Tears begin to collect in my own eyes at my best friend's pain. I don't know what to say – what words could possibly help her feel better? She said this would happen, but in all honesty; I did not believe Jasper was capable of this. Sure, I knew there would be a lot tears and even yelling. However, this was _Jasper._ Logical, thought out Jasper. Jasper would never hurt Alice. Well, not in any scenario _I_ concocted.

When her sobs slow down into sniffles, I peek down at her. Her face is nestled deep into the crook of my neck and I can feel breaths hot against my skin. Before long, an hour has past and we haven't moved from our position on the bed.

"Ali?"

She swallows heavily "yeah?"

"What you thinking?"

"I can't do this without him Bella" she snivels "I don't care if that makes me sound weak or dependent or a shitty feminist. I just love him so fucking much. How can I look at my kid everyday, seeing his blue eyes or blonde hair or nose or dusting of freckles and _not_ break down?

"Maybe he needs time Alice. I mean it took you a while to accept it. This is huge."

"Y-yeah. But his face… God, his face! Did you see it Bella? It was like I had stomped all over his heart,"

She pulls away from me "if I had told him as soon as I had found out, maybe he could've accepted that. But because I have waited… fuck I probably wouldn't have told him today, if you and Edward hadn't of come back. Shit, if I had waited any longer…"

"But you didn't wait any longer. I am so proud that you told him Alice; and now everything is off your chest. The ball is in his court now, you have done everything you possibly can."

Alice looks so lost that all I can do is bring her back into my embrace. I hum something unintelligible, filling the silence and rock her back and forth. My mind attempts to conjure the next step we should take. I have assumed the role of Jasper in the respect that I have made runs to the grocery store for her cravings and sat with her during morning sickness.

I am more than okay to continue doing that for her, but I really hope that Edward will be able to convince Jasper to come back. To at least _talk_ to Alice about it. I don't think she could deal with never talking or seeing him ever again.

I vaguely register the front door opening and closing, signalling Edward's return. I look quickly at my watch, startled to find that we have been sitting here for little under two hours.

"Edward's here" I say, patting her back gently.

"Fuck, I am so embarrassed" Alice moans, burying her face deeper.

"He isn't going to judge you Al, he loves you. We both do."

"Bell?"

"Alice?"

Both Alice and I shoot up at the sound of our names; stunned to see both of our men standing at the door. My eyes, as always, are drawn to Edward who looks beyond exhausted but the small smile on his face sets my heart aflutter.

More shockingly is the sight of Jasper. His eyes are also red from crying but his stance is strong; he stares at Alice unflinchingly.

"Alice, we need to talk."

Alice exhales shakily but nods. I tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"You want me to stay in the other room?"

She offers me a small but thankful smile; "you've already done so much for me Bells. You go with Edward, I think… I think I'm going to be okay."

"Call me, if you need anything" I say meaningfully.

"I will."

"And I'll be back later."

I hug her tightly, pressing a kiss in her cheek. I hope this is a step into the right direction. From the tired (and nervous) smile Jasper sends me as I grasp Edward's hand, I take it as a yes.

…

I fall heavily on to my stool, "Christ, I need a drink. And it's only two o'clock!"

Edward smiles sympathetically at me and touches my hand that rests on the bar "well at least everything is out in the open now."

"God, Edward… I – I feel so fucking guilty."

His hand pauses on top of mine, confusion twisting his face. His body moves over the bar, so that our faces are close and he searches my eyes for answers.

"Guilty? What the hell are you feeling guilty about? It was Alice's decision to keep it from Jasper, Bell. It was her secret to tell."

"It's not that!" I groan. "Edward, Jasper has been waiting outside my apartment since ten o'clock last night. Alice was all by herself, unable to explain to him what is going on. If I had been there, then maybe this would have happened a little sooner. Alice looked so defeated when I walked in to her room this morning; so _broken._ And what I had been doing?"

"Isabella, _stop._ What are you – psychic? You have been at home all week long and have not seen Jasper. It could've happened any night at any time, you can't always be with her. And Alice, baby she's a grown woman and this is something she needs to deal with. What she and Jasper need to deal with together. You have already done so much for her.

I get why you are upset; your loyalty and love for your friends is one of the many things I love about you. But if Alice really needed you and was struggling so much, then I know for a fact that she would've called you last night. Or even earlier this morning. You aren't a clairvoyant, you didn't know this would be all coming to a head today."

His finger hooks beneath my chin so I have to look back at him, "sweetheart, don't regret our time together… it was one of the best days I have had in a long time."

"I don't regret the time we spent together" I rush to say, bringing my hand to his cheek "never! I just wish that I had been there to support her."

Edward smiles softly, "and you will. We will. And she knows that."

I nod, "Thank you baby."

"Anytime."

"Not just for that… thank you for bringing back Jasper."

He shrugs "it was the least I could do."

"What did you say to him? I didn't think he'd come back so quickly… his head must be so fucked up."

He runs his free hand through his hair, "it was to be honest. He just couldn't understand why she didn't tell him… he questioned whether she really loves him."

I gasp at the ludicrousness of the statement alone. The thought of Alice not loving Jasper is just incomprehensible! The girl is head over heels for him. It was the reason _why_ she didn't tell him!

"I… I mean. Wha- what did you say to that?"

Edward looks down at our hands, playing with my fingers "I told him my story Bella. How I kept my identity from you, because I was scared of losing you. Keeping a secret from the person you love most in this world, it _drains_ you. You feel so weak; weak from all the constant lies, weak from the heaviness of it all. But you deal with it, because that pain is nothing compared to the pain that you will feel when you lose that person. I… I understand how Alice feels, and I simply tried to communicate to that to him. "

Hearing the raw empathy and pain in his voice, brings tears to my eyes. I raise our hands to my lips – kissing his softly. To think that throughout the early stages of our relationship, whilst I was oblivious, he was feeling drained… it hurts me. I never want him to experience that feeling alone – ever again.

"I get it. And I understand. You know that I don't resent you for keeping it from me, right? It's over now, sweetheart."

He leans over the bar, kissing me.

"Okay, okay Justin and Selena. Break it up. Jeez – you guys are so inconsiderate to us singletons. It makes me sick."

I pull away from Edward, making him groan in protest "Em, I hate to break it to you but Justin and Selena broke up."

Emmett beams, "nuh uh, they went bike riding and shit – that thing is definitely still on."

"I think you'll find that they broke up again. He's with that Hailey girl now."

"I call bullshit. And if we're talking about Hailey Baldwin, she's dating the dude that sings something about 'stitches'."

"I don't think so Em…"

Edward's head flicks back and forth as though he is watching a tennis tournament. When Emmett stops, to research his facts on his phone, Edward turns to me with an amused smile.

"I didn't know that you were so up to date with celebrity pop culture."

A mild blush touches my cheeks "I blame Alice. Without Jasper around, all she does is watch teen dramas and scour gossip sites."

"I can't believe it" Emmett sighs, "there goes not one but _two_ celebrity couples down the drain. Jesus, this nickname thing is becoming harder by the minute! I am running out of options."

I laugh at the genuine look of devastation on his face.

"Maybe you could drop the whole nickname thing, Em?" Edward pipes up hopefully.

"Fuck no, Clyde. While I don't know the future of all the Hollywood couples, I do see a lot more nicknames in your and Bonnie's future."

As he saunters away, his statement stays with me. A light bulb goes off in my head.

"Edward!" I say excitedly.

"Yeah."

"Bonnie and Clyde!"

"Yep, can't say it's the worst he has come up with. They are pretty badass."

"No, dummy! _Bonnie and Clyde._ For Halloween."

A slow smile stretches over his face.

…

We spend a further two hours at Eclipse, laughing at Emmett and his antics. It is interesting being here so early in the day especially as every other time I have been here it was evening. I am surprised that there are still quite a few customers coming through the doors.

Quiet acoustic music plays in the background as businessmen and women flock the bar after a hard day at work. I notice things about the club that I have never noticed before; like the huge windows, retro brick walls and number of booths. At night, all you really take in is the chaos on the dance floor, the blaring music and flashing multicoloured lights. It is a very different atmosphere, but I can't help but enjoy this more.

Edward and I also end up chatting about the Halloween party. To say I am edgy when it comes to meeting Edward's family is an understatement. I know that Esme and maybe even Rosalie will do everything in their power to throw me off Edward and our relationship. However, I am confident in what Edward and I have. It will take a big fucking bombshell to shake us. I am more nervous about restraining myself from hitting that vile woman in the face.

Even Emmett joined in on the conversation. He admits that he has met Esme and Carlisle once or twice. Carlisle has always come off as cordial and polite, whereas according to him- Esme has a very cold demeanour. He divulged that she talked nothing but business, and retreated into a shell.

What interests me even more however, is when I bring up Rosalie. It is as if a switch turned off.

"I don't know her." He states, but his tone suggests anything but.

"Really? She was here at the club when we first met."

The rigidness in his shoulders is unmistakable. His usually friendly face becomes aloof, "We don't know each other."

His voice tells me to drop the subject, so I quickly moved on. But the question continues to linger in my mind. _Have they met?_ That answer is answered straight away – of course they have! _But why is Emmett so cold with Rosalie? What did she do to him?_ Emmett is one of the kindest, most jovial souls I know, it would take something big for him to act in such a way.

"Hey, baby?"

"Yeah?"

Edward tosses a rag over his shoulder and leans on his forearms over the bar; the gesture immediately takes me back to the night we met. My insides melt at the memory of his cocky smirk and flirtations. _Sigh._

"Emmett is giving me a break."

After Edward and I left last night, we had received a stern voicemail stating that Edward would be working a day _and_ night shift as payment for our 'sexcapade' as Emmett had so tastefully labelled it.

"Really?" I ask sceptically.

The way he nods reminds me of a little boy, "yeah! I mean I have an hour, and then I have to come back. Have you heard from Alice?"

"She text me earlier to say that her and Jazz were still chatting, but she still wants that girls night in so after your break I'll probably just head home."

"Well, since I have limited time with you… fancy going for a drive?"

It takes me a moment to understand what he was saying.

"You mean…"

He grins widely, "Isabella Swan, I believe that ride on my Harley is long over due."

I squeal, jumping up and down. Truthfully, I had forgotten all about the bet Edward and I had made during our first date. It's hard to believe that it was almost two months ago since that day. So many things have happened.

"Where are we going?"

"Anywhere you want. The city is our oyster."

"What are we waiting for? Lets go!"

…

My Edward is full of surprises.

I find out that he has planned this for a while, and had purchased me a beautiful leather jacket to wear. The leather is dark and supple under my fingertips. It fits like a glove, running over every curve.

He groans as he zips it up, just under my breasts "holy shit, you have no _idea_ how sexy you look right now."

His hands run from my waist and over my ass, as he pushes me into his very hard erection. I giggle, dancing away from him.

"Easy there, like you said – we have an hour and I want to spend it right."

He quirks an eyebrow, "and you're saying that making love to your desperate, lust-ridden boyfriend would be a waste of our short, _short_ time together."

His tone lets me know that he is joking, but the way his bottom lip juts out makes me rethink my decision for a second. I lift myself up on my tiptoes and cradle his face between my hands, loving his little pout.

"Baby, I love you," I kiss his nose delicately "and I think you know how much I love… making love to you" a coy giggle pours from my lips, "However, there is a Fat Boy S calling my name. So you're going to have to take a back seat for a moment, Mister."

I walk over to the bike (making sure to swing my hips a bit in the process) before throwing my leg over the gleaming vehicle. I put my hands on the handlebars, getting a feel for the controls. It is like I am fulfilling some sort of teenage fantasy. I have lusted over Harleys for a long time, but never did I dream that I would drive one.

I look over to my boyfriend who just stands there, hands in his pocket and eyes blazing. He looks like he wants to bend me over the bike and fuck me hard, but that would have to wait until later.

I send him a saucy smile (which really didn't help with his… _situation_ to be honest) and toss my hair over my shoulder.

"I think I just came on the spot," Edward moans, running his hands through his hair.

"Just get over here!"

"Just wait a second."

Next thing I know, he has whipped out his phone and taken about a dozen pictures of me within five seconds.

I blink, while he looks at his phone happily.

"That's definitely my new screensaver."

"Edward, you have changed your screensaver about ten times since our fourth date!"

"I can't help it if you are too photogenic." He reasons, handing me a cherry red helmet.

From any other person, the words would sound sarcastic, but the sincerity rings clearly in his words. I can't help him kiss him over my shoulder, albeit very awkwardly.

"So Isabella, what do we do now?"

"Oh Mr. Cullen, now _I_ am going to give you the ride of _your_ life."

His laughter is boisterous at the familiar words, and I kick the bike to life.

We cruise down the streets, the wind feeling heavenly through my hair. I have no destination in mind, choosing to just drive aimlessly, revelling in the purring of the machine.

It is so hard to describe the ecstasy you feel when riding a motorcycle. It is like your senses are elevated. You can smell _everything._ On 42nd Street, there is the unmistakable scent of bacon whereas on 34th street there is the overwhelming stench of weed. It's different every place you go.

You hear white noise when riding, a buzzing in your ears that make the whole experience exhilarating.

But the best thing is that even though a part of you is concentrating in staying safe and being mindful of the other people on the road – you feel utterly free. Everything, all thought just gets lost behind you as you fly at crazy speed.

I am so full adrenaline and I have forgotten how much I miss this. I am itching to get back to Forks to revamp the engine of Big Red; I don't think I can go this long without riding a bike ever again.

It is then I feel a cold drop of rain on my hand. I curse in my head, gazing quickly up at the sky, which is rapidly becoming a dark grey. While I am a confident driver, I decide to turn back to Eclipse. Driving in New York for the first time was one thing, but in the pouring rain is another.

"Edward?" I shout over the wind, the rain coming harder and faster.

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna take us to mine!"

"Okay baby! I probably need to head back anyway!"

I turn us around, weaving my way through the yellow cabs and cars towards my apartment complex. The rain isn't heavy to the point where it's dangerous, but enough to get us soaking wet.

I park in front of the entrance, extra slowly. Who knows when I'll get another opportunity to drive this beauty?

Edward squeezes my hips, sliding off the motorcycle and helping me off. When I pull of my helmet, I look at him – my mouth going dry at the sight. His black t-shirt clings to his chest, outlining every line of his gorgeous body. His bronze hair is flat against his head, and droplets of rain drip from his eyelashes down onto his cheeks and his nose.

He looks at me with equal fire, for what reason – I don't know. I know for a fact, I must look like a drowned rat.

I am not sure who makes the first move but suddenly our lips mash together. His soft lips taste like sweet rain and something that is entirely him. I consume it, licking away the water from his mouth and twirling his tongue with mine.

He sucks my top lip into his mouth greedily and then does the same with the bottom one. It doesn't matter that we are standing on a busy street in New York with the rain banging down on us.

His stubble rubs against my skin in heavenly ways and his wet hair curls around my fingers.

All too soon, he drags himself away. His forehead meets mine, his body trembling.

"Christ Bella – the way you rode my bike… and you look so fucking good. Fuck!"

He pecks my lips again, once, then twice.

"Do you _have_ to go?"

He chuckles, but the noise comes out all strangled.

"God, baby you don't know how much I want to bend you over my bike and just fuck the shit out of you."

I moan, my thighs clenching at the image.

"But I need to go back to work. And you need to go in before you catch a cold."

"T-text me when you get back to work. So I know that you got back safely."

"I will, love. Give Al a hug for me."

I don't know how I manage to walk away from him, but the Cheshire cat smile never leaves my face.

…

"Al?"

I peel off the leather jacket and toe my sneakers off. I drag out the movements, fruitlessly trying to avoid the inevitable. I don't know what I am going to find. Has Jasper left Alice for good? Will I find her in a similar position to how I found her earlier today? Or have I walked in at a bad time and they are ripping each other's clothes off in the other room?

I go into my room, changing out of my wet jeans and shirt, and into a pair of yoga pants and t-shirt. Still not hearing a word, I then decide to go into the kitchen for a cup of tea. The day has been a rollercoaster of emotions, and my body feels a little tired from the events. A girls night in, really is in order.

While the kettle boils, I touch my neck that still stings a little from Edward's stubble. The burn sends a bolt of electricity straight to my core, and if I close my eyes, I can still see a wet Edward with his swollen lips and lustful gaze.

"Hey Bella."

I whip around to look at Jasper, who I hadn't even heard come in.

He loiters by the door with his hands inside his pockets and looking almost shy.

"Hi Jazz, tea?"

"No thanks. I'm actually going to head out now; I've been informed that it's 'girls night' tonight?"

"Oh Jazz, if you want to spend the night alone with Alice, I totally understand – "

"No, Bells – its fine. To be honest, after my talk with Ali, I just kind of need to be on my own for a minute. Get my head around it."

I wring my hands together, eyeing him timidly "so… so everything is okay with you guys?"

He inhales deeply "I love her Bella. And even if this wasn't planned, I always knew she was it for me. I'm not going to let that go, just because everything came a bit sooner than expected. After talking with Edward and hearing what Alice had to say – I get it."

I smile at him genuinely, my heart filling with happiness for my best friend "you are a good guy, Jasper Whitlock."

He smiles back at me, but he hasn't finished.

"Look Bella, I just wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier-"

I hold up a hand stopping him, "Jasper, I get it. More than anything."

He nods empathetically, "but that doesn't make it okay. And especially being there for Alice, when I couldn't. I owe you."

I go to him, and hug him – "you owe me nothing. Thank you for making her so happy."

His strong arms encircle me and we embrace for a minute. He pulls away from me, a big toothy grin lighting up his features.

"Well I'm gonna go. I'll be back tomorrow morning."

"I promise we'll let you in this time." I tease.

He snorts, pushing at me playfully.

"You better Swan, otherwise we'll be having words."

Alice pokes her head around the door. I am beyond delighted to see her stunning smile – right where it belonged.

"Can I come in now?"

Jasper grins at her affectionately, "yeah. I'm going now."

"Oh, okay…"

She suddenly seems unsure, she starts rocking back on her heels and her lip is trapped between her teeth – a trait that she has surely picked up from me.

Jasper, seeing her discomfort, immediately goes to her, taking her face into his hands.

"Tink – I know that it was wrong for me to leave. But I am not going to leave you ever again. I'll be back tomorrow morning."

She looks at her feet, almost avoiding him "I don't have any right to be weird around you…"

"Hey. What did I tell you? I understand baby. I was shocked and emotional when I ran earlier, but that's not going to happen again. I swear it. You, me and baby."

Alice rises on her tiptoes to kiss him. I turn quickly to the kettle, feeling like I had intruded upon an extremely private moment.

"Bye Bells!"

"Bye Jazz." I smile, nodding at him.

I hear another kissing noise; then his heavy footsteps and the door closing.

As soon as we are alone, I run to hug my pixie. The serene look on her face makes me almost want to cry. It has been way, too long since I've seen her like this.

"What you thinking?" I murmur into her hair.

Her body sighs, "Oh Bella… just so _happy._ He came back to me!"

I put my hands on her shoulders, "he truly is a wonderful man."

"The best. I don't deserve him."

"Alice, you deserve _each other,"_ I admonish.

"And I feel so _relieved,_ B _._ I did not realise how much this secret has been weighing on me until I said it. Now I just feel… so light."

"I am so happy for you guys! And your baby… he'll be the happiest kid in the world."

"She." Alice says absentmindedly, tugging the ends of my hair.

"She?"

"You said he… I don't know. I know it's a long way off, but I just have a feeling that she's a girl."

A slow smile spreads across my face, "so a girl."

I don't even have to look to know that Alice is smiling as well, "a girl."

We then start to squeal, jumping around like excited girls. Alice is rarely wrong on these things, and I am not going to start doubting her now. It feels amazing to celebrate the pregnancy. Up until this point, with the initial shock and then keeping it from Jasper, there was no other emotion but guilt and regret. This excited momentum is much more appropriate.

We chat about shopping for the baby over our tea. Now knowing the gender, I can't wait to buy little pink dresses and dolly shoes for her. _A girl!_ I don't think I have ever been so ready to shop before!

"Bells?"

"Mmm?"

"I need to thank you, as well. For being here. For being my bestest friend. If you were not here earlier, well. I don't know what I would have done to be honest. Not just earlier either, but throughout everything… You have been the only thing that's kept me from breaking apart."

"You know I'll always be here for you."

"I know… And thanks for the pep talk earlier. It was tough to listen to, but I needed to hear it. If I hadn't – well, I don't think I would have been able to tell him. You made me realise that this whole thing, hiding this pregnancy, has made me lose myself. Who I am."

"And that's what I was hoping you would understand. Still, it was difficult to tell you Al. You know I hate confrontation or letting my anger or frustration get the best of me."

"Yeah, well now I know why," she jokes "you're pretty scary when you're mad B."

We chuckle together.

"When I came back, I didn't know what to expect. There was a moment there, where I thought you guys were having make up sex!"

Her gleeful expression darkens; she takes a gulp of tea as if it was a shot.

"Wait – what's that look for?"

"Well, Jasper and I have made up, but…"

"What?"

Her eyes become glassy, and I am back to feeling alarmed.

"Alice – what!?"

"He's not going to have sex with me until after my next doctor's appointment!" She blubbers "he wants to make sure everything's okay, even though I _told_ him it was fine!"

And here comes the pregnancy hormones again, folks

…

 _ **Five Days Later... The night of the Halloween party…**_

I smooth down my tweed pencil skirt; I am somewhat anxious in how I am going to sit in this thing. It's so tight. Alice had fashioned a slit up the right side of it to reach a little above the middle of my thigh so it gives me _some_ room to walk. And while I am grateful for the freedom, I am hyperaware of the way it offers view to my nude lace garter belt. It makes me blush like a high schooler discovering their breasts for the first time.

However, I want the little slip of the garter to stand as a massive "fuck you" to Esme. I am not going to the party to get approval from her, as she may expect. I am there for my boyfriend; the love of my life; the man who she had manipulated from a young age and continues to fuck around with. He is the only person I am dressing for tonight... well him _and_ myself.

Bonnie is a headstrong and powerful woman – and that is what I want to show Esme, Carlisle and Rosalie tonight. They will not be able to push me from Edward's side. Like Bonnie and Clyde – we are a package deal.

Alice tucks in my mustard yellow sweater into the back of my skirt with effort, before rounding me to straighten the silky scarf wrapped around my neck.

"Y'know Bells, you look pretty damn good blonde," she observes, twirling a strand of my short blonde wig between her fingers.

I slap her hand away playfully, righting my little white beret.

"I just hope Edward likes it."

She snorts, "B, I wouldn't be surprised if the man decided to role play tonight. You look so damn good!"

"Alice," I groan. I didn't like talking about my sex life, no matter how open she is with hers.

"Bella, please give me some leeway here! I haven't had sex in weeks, and now Jazzy wants to take it slow before our next doctor's appointment – which isn't for another _week._ I am losing my mind!"

"Aw, you poor baby."

"Your lack of sympathy is not appreciated" she dismisses "Okay, now for the shoes!"

Alice pulls out a pair of nude peep-toe heels.

"Let me guess, Jimmy Choo?" I jest.

She face palms, shaking her head at me disappointed. She raises the heels up so that I can see the red soles, "the fact that you cannot distinguish a Jimmy Choo from a Christian Louboutin, actually _pains_ me Bella."

I snort, sliding the shoes on.

She steps back, squealing "ah! You look perfect! Kourtney Kardashian – eat your heart out!"

"You sure? Not too over the top? Or slutty?"

"Isabella, you are sophisticated and sexy _and_ badass. Those socialites aren't gonna know what hit them – trust me."

I nod, but double check in the mirror. The skirt, besides the slit and tightness is modest in the respect that it falls to my knee. My make up isn't overdone; natural foundation and a nude lip, but the chocolate eye shadow, eyeliner and mascara make my eyes pop.

Turning myself away from the mirror, I try to distance myself away from bitchy aunt/adopted mothers and socialite affairs.

"What are you going to do tonight?"

Alice sits cross-legged on my bed, watching me "Just going to watch some horror movies and get a takeaway, baby is craving some pizza."

I laugh – before Alice got pregnant, she never really liked pizza. She found it creasy and gross. But, now it is all she ever seems to eat.

"I'm glad he is here."

"Me too. I didn't realize how much I needed him until he walked out on us... you get me? Up to that point, I had kind of accepted the fact that I would have to let him go and be a single mother."

I sit beside her, "I really don't know how you two are going to keep your hands off each other though."

"Ugh. Don't remind me."

"Y'know, this is the first time we haven't been out for Halloween together."

"Well technically it isn't Halloween yet… maybe you can just reuse this costume? Or wear the one you wore last year?"

I smile, thinking about the Hermione Granger costume I had worn the year before. Of course Alice had altered it so it was "appropriately sexy"; with my little black school skirt a lot shorter and the red and gold tie a bit looser.

"Wait. Then that would make Edward…"

"Ron Weasley!" Alice laughs, "y'know – he is kind of ginger!"

We both laugh hysterically at the thought of Edward in a Hogwarts uniform with painted freckles over his beautiful face.

"Now what are you two laughing at?"

Edward and Jasper stand at the threshold of my bedroom; Jasper looking a lot more relaxed with his arms crossed over his chest, a fond smile tickling his lips. Then there is Edward.

I stand quickly taking in my boyfriend.

He was wearing a navy pinstripe suit, the jacket hanging open a little so that I can see his white shirt, silk patterned tie and a flash of braces, with his bronze hair covered by a navy hat. He looked _drool-worthy_.

His eyes in return, run up and down my body hungrily, hovering for a moment on the glimpse of the garter. His tongue darts out to lick his lips as he eyes the lacy garment and I rub my thighs together in anticipation.

A part of me feels – fuck it. Fuck Esme. Fuck Rosalie. Fuck all those socialite pricks. All I want is to take those braces off with my teeth and roll around in bed with Edward in nothing but his hat.

"Fuck, baby. You look _gorgeous._ "

He holds both hands out for me to hold. As I take them, he inches me closer to whisper in my ear; "and beyond sexy. I don't think I'll be able to keep my hands off you tonight."

I blush deeply, making Alice and Jasper snort with laughter.

"No backing out now Eddie," Alice teases. "And no kisses! I have worked on this masterpiece for hours. Now go and mingle with New York's finest."

"Oh, I don't think I can abide to the first rule, Ali" Edward jokes. Alice pokes her tongue out in retaliation, making Jasper laugh again.

Edward's emerald eyes meet mine "are you sure about this? You can back out now… I'll understa-"

"Edward Mason, I did not get this dressed up for nothing! Now, let's go."

We exchange goodbyes with Alice and Jasper then make our way quickly to the car. Sadly, my skirt and wig would not agree with the motorcycle, but Edward's BMW is a good replacement.

"Y'know, I like the blonde," Edward comments, starting the car "but I am already missing my brunette."

I snicker, running my fingers through the fine strands – "I'll probably end up pulling it off halfway through the night to be fair. The clips that are keeping it on are digging into my skull."

We make small talk as we continue through the busy traffic towards the hotel in which the party is being held.

As we pull up to the valet, Edward presses a kiss on to my hand "thank you so much for coming with me tonight."

I smile at him and kiss him soundly on the cheek "baby, my place is at your side."

His smile is breathtaking, "I love you. Do you know that? So fucking much."

"I do know that. And I love you too. Now lets go show those people what we're made of…"

I hold onto him tightly when he helps me out of the car and up the steps of the hotel.

There are a few photographers waiting for us by the door, but neither Edward nor I acknowledge them except for a few quick smiles.

The hotel is every bit as grand as I imagined; the colour schemes are gold and cream and I can see my reflection in the shiny marble floors. Edward leads me to a pair of huge, doors that tower over us by several feet; they look like they belong in a film or a palace. Two large men in tuxedos wait at the entrance, staring at Edward and I expectantly.

"Name?" the tallest one asks, his beady eyes scanning over a clipboard.

Edward coughs, "uh, Anthony Cullen."

If either man is surprised, they don't show it. They simply nod, and open the doors for us- "enjoy the party, Sir."

Edward returns their nod, "You okay, love?"

I stare out at the scene in front of us; I can see crystal chandeliers with candles burning; the orange glow and dark shadows creating an eerie effect suitable for the occasion. People mingle around sipping champagne from flutes, laughing and chatting amongst themselves.

However, past all this all I can focus on is the impressive staircase that we must go down.

"Edward – hold on to me," I whisper urgently.

"Always, baby."

Music pours through the room as we walk in arms linked, and I swear I can feel a dozen eyes resting on us.

The heavy beat match our steps as Taylor Swift's song sounds through the room; her lyrics echoing the very thought that is pounding in my head right now.

 _Are you ready for it?_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Disclaimer- all characters sadly belongs to the one and only Stephanie Meyer!**_

 _ **Hi everyone.**_

 _ **I am not going to make any excuses for myself. I had every intention to continue the story; this chapter has been sitting unfinished on my computer since June. But I struggled to finish it. I don't know what it was. Creatively, I just couldn't get myself to write it. I am so sorry, and I apologise for the horrible excuse. I was not going to post a chapter that I wasn't 100% with.**_

 _ **However, I am back and I want to reassure you – this story, although taking a while to write, will be finished. I have every intention in finishing.**_

 _ **Thank you to all of those readers who have stuck with me – who continue to favourite, follow and review. It is you guys who made me what to finish this chapter.**_

 _ **I hope you guys enjoy the chapter and it does not disappoint! I will be posting the next chapter this time next week so keep a look out.**_

 _ **Love you all.**_

 **15.**

 **BPOV**

"Everyone's staring."

"No, not that guy. He just looked."

I chuckle nervously – but the laughter does little to dispel my anxiety. I catch a few people staring at Edward, licking their lips. He looks so handsome, with strands of his bronze hair falling into view and his green eyes so alive.

Others critically rake their eyes up and down my body, probably wondering why this Adonis is with me. Their glares burn through me.

In a futile attempt to distract myself, I start by scanning the room; it's a bizarre scene, to say the least.

Jackie O waltzes with _Clark Kent_. The _Mad Hatter_ laughs along with _Mary Poppins. Gatsby_ sips champagne next to _Jessica Rabbit_. Witches mingle with werewolves.

The crowd is a colourful and diverse display; and a genuine giggle falls from my lips at the surreal-ness of it all, especially when I catch the weird sight of a _Jon Snow_ chatting up an _Eleven_ from _Stranger Things_.

God I love Halloween.

The room is grand and ornate, complete with marble columns and statues. The cream and gold colour scheme of the lobby continues, exempting the rich maroon carpet that lines the dance floor.

The windows that line the walls are at least fifteen feet tall, garnished with red roses and orange marigolds. The same flowers feature as centrepieces on the round tables alongside golden candelabras. There is also a large stage set on the north side of the room, similarly decorated.

The masses of flowers surround an unfamiliar band dressed as vampires, their music swallowing the chatter of the room. They're good, working the hordes with popular, well-known hits.

Waiters in black waistcoats sidle through clusters of guests with refreshments and flutes of champagne; couples twirl around on the dance floor elegantly, and groups of socialites gossip on the tables that are scattered around the room.

Everything about the aesthetic screams opulence and for a moment – the distasteful gazes are the least of my worries. No… the true concern is, where do I fit in within this world? I'm a college student; I work in a bookstore; I own three pieces of designer clothing; back home, I own a rusted Chevy. Nothing about my life is glamorous.

I lose my train of thought when Edward and I finally reach the end of the staircase. I can feel the clamminess of my palms escalate and my teeth are desperate to gnaw on my lip. Somehow, I manage to maintain my cool façade despite the chaos raging in my brain and focus on Edward's comforting fingers drawing circles on my lower back.

"Bella?"

"Mmm?" I hum, avoiding the glower of a particularly shameless observer.

"I asked if you wanted anything to drink?"

Although alcohol would be a great way to loosen up right now, it has never been my greatest friend. I am very much a lightweight, and the last thing I need is to meet Esme when I am intoxicated.

"No, maybe in a bit."

A loud laugh echoes to my right, making me jump a little.

 _Am I being paranoid, or was she just looking at me?_

Edward grips me as I stumble from my brief stupor.

"Whoa, careful. It's like you're in your own world… You okay?"

"I think so… just overwhelmed, to be honest."

He pulls back at the slight quiver in my tone, his eyes searching my face. Whatever he finds must leave him dissatisfied, because he then tugs my hand towards a dimly lit hallway, beneath the archway of the double staircase.

Hidden behind a marble column, I lean against a wall, releasing a deep breathe and immediately the weight of people's stares alleviates. Meanwhile, Edward's hands press against the wall either side of my face. He is so close that I can feel his breathe against my cheek, all warm and minty.

"We can leave if you want, just say the word."

He looks at me with such sincerity and concern, that I know – if I voiced any uncertainty over being here, he would whisk me far away from this place

Really, I would kill to get out of these clothes. To envelop Edward like bubble wrap and protect him from the vultures he calls family but I know that that would do far more harm than good.

For one thing, Edward would get an ear full from Esme if he ditched this party with me. He had told me bits and pieces of their conversation the night after my Ball and from the sounds of it, she didn't take his departure lightly. According to Edward, it involved a lot of screaming and "empty" threats.

Other than that, he had brushed the whole thing off; saying it was worth it in the end. But the fragmented and vague description of the exchange, told me that Edward had toned down the argument for my benefit. As if he wanted to protect me from Esme and her words.

Basically – there is no way in hell, that I'm allowing him to face another wrath of Esme Cullen because of me.

Cupping his cheek, I shake my head ruefully "you know that we can't do that."

He holds my hand to his face, turning to kiss the inside of my palm. The action makes my breath catch, "You are my first priority Bella, you always have been."

I lean my head into his chest, inhaling. His scent – all woodsy and masculine, instantly relaxes me. I close my eyes, basking in this small slice of heaven and for a second, I imagine that we are back in my apartment, in my bed.

This morning had been amazing as Edward had the day off and with it being a Saturday, there was no prospect of school. We spent the whole time, sharing lazy kisses and making love and whispering to each other beneath tangled sheets; diving deeper into our pasts, as well as our hopes and dreams for the future. And, while neither of us can predict what will happen, it became clear – both of us do not see a future without the other one in it.

I could easily stay here in our little bubble, reminiscing about our start to the day… but I'm too aware of where we are. Of all the people here… all the rich, successful, upper class people. I pull self-consciously at my skirt, remembering the women's disdainful glares. Suddenly, I am more aware of its tightness and the slit that runs up my thigh provocatively.

Edward being Edward immediately catches on to my discomfort.

"Bell? What's up?"

"It's nothing."

I go to move away from him, as if this would hide my scepticism.

 _Not the time or place, Swan._

Edward doesn't allow me to move an inch, his arms forming an iron cage around me "Baby, tell me what's wrong. This is more than you feeling overwhelmed."

"I just…" I look at our feet embarrassed "I don't know. I guess I'm feeling like a fish out of water. You have grown up around these sorts of people your whole life Edward, all these rich and successful people. Me? I'm just some nobody – "

"I'm going to stop you right there, Isabella."

I feel his fingers hook beneath my chin, forcing my gaze to his. Even in this light, his eyes are stormy and his lips are set in a firm line.

"How can you say that? Bella, these people – they are social climbers. Whatever money most of them possess, was off the back of their ancestors; they just reap the benefits. They are upper class snobs, not royalty."

Then his features soften, his thumb stroking the apple of my cheek "and have you even looked in the mirror lately? You _are_ successful. You are set to graduate at the top of your class with a first class degree. You have impressed one of the greatest editors within the industry."

He leans forward pressing a light kiss against my lips; the next words dusting across my skin "And Bella, you're the woman I love. You are _certainly_ not a nobody."

My heart threatens to burst at the ferocious faith he has within me. His absolute belief in me is such a turn on – I am tempted to drag him further down the corridor by his braces, to express my gratitude to him in a very physical way. Because surely, there aren't enough words to truly express the feelings I have for him? Even those three words seem inadequate. Over-used, almost. But, they are the only thing I can come up with in such a short space of time.

"I love you. So much."

His face lights up, as if I handed him the moon. It is a look, which never fails to make me feel all warm and fuzzy. He kisses me tenderly on the cheek "I love you too. We'll leave as soon as possible, and then I'll show you just how much."

I grin at him, "then we best get this show on the road, yeah?"

He laughs, pressing another kiss to the side of my head. Entwining our fingers together, we walk back into the main area; heads held high.

"Okay," I straighten my shoulders "give me the low down."

Edward lets out a breathy chuckle, "hmm let me see…"

His eyes sweep the floor – "over there, the two guys dressed as… I think the _Men in Black_?"

I didn't even have to look that thoroughly to know who he is talking about; at the far left of the room, cross armed – complete with dark sunglasses – are two stern looking men. One is six foot, with dark skin and long limbs and the other is beefier and short, perhaps my age.

"Yep."

"Okay so the taller guy is Charles and the shorter one is Peter. I went to school with Charles; nice guy, but we didn't really talk much. All I remember is his granddad is a bit of a dick; owns some major company over-seas. He is one of those traditionalists, who stuff work and money down your throat. Peter is Charles's step-cousin and Jasper's friend, from Columbia."

My eyes widen in recognition, a light bulb flickering "he's the one that got us into Rosalie's penthouse party?"

Edward nods, "Probably. Peter's father is the Dean of Columbia and a close friend of Esme's. You wouldn't believe how long Esme tried to set him up with Rose. Then of course Royce came along and Peter was long forgotten."

"You don't like Royce." I say without thinking, instantly seeing the tension in his frame.

His eyes widen in surprise at my quick analysis – "you can be a bit scary sometimes…"

"Why don't you like him? Doesn't everyone love Royce King?"

"Uh, uh" Edward tsks, "everyone loves _Henry Slater_. There's a difference."

Royce King shot to stardom for playing Henry Slater in a _'Downton Abbey_ -esque' British period drama. A charismatic and lovable rogue, the role eventually won Royce a BAFTA. He played him for four years, before some sort of plague controversially killed off the character. People still rage about his demise today, and thousands have even petitioned to bring Henry back in future episodes.

"Royce… he is arrogant and self-entitled."

"I remember thinking someone else was very arrogant when I first met him…"

Edward looks at me with mock hurt – "I was never arrogant, that is called _confidence_ Swan!"

"Yeah, yeah. So Royce is an asshole."

"Basically." Edward sighs, "Meeting him, you wouldn't think much else. He's really quite shallow, spoilt and two-dimensional. But… I don't know."

I eye him, "You don't trust him."

"There's just something I don't like about him. I can't put my finger on it."

"Is he here tonight?"

He shakes his head, "he's filming in Hawaii. You've dodged a bullet, believe me."

"Okay… so who else should I avoid at all costs?"

Edward smirks at me, "Well I wouldn't recommend the couple over by the dance floor."

"Which one?"

"The only ones in the whole room who have forgone costumes."

I follow his line of vision, "The man in the burgundy suit with the blonde in the green dress?"

He nods. To be honest, I wouldn't approach them anyway – there was this intimidating air around them; it screamed _'we are above everyone here.'_

They are undoubtedly a handsome couple, and obviously extremely wealthy. He is dressed in a velvet suit and matching shoes, his dark dreads covered with a fedora hat. He stands next to a tall woman, who has at least three inches on him (although this could be because of the stilettos she is wearing). Her green dress runs over her skinny body, like water. A cream, fur wrap folded over her forearms.

"The man is Laurent Brisbois…"

My eyes widen, "As in the French fashion designer?"

Edward looks at me shocked; knowing my lack of interest in fashion but I roll my eyes at him "My best friend is Alice, remember?"

He nods empathetically, "right. Well next to him is his wife Irina Volkov, the Russian supermodel."

"Okay…"

"Well, he was married to a woman called Sasha for twenty-two years. An old friend of Esme's."

I stare at him blankly, not seeing where he is going "so he isn't with that Irina girl."

"Oh he is. He left Sasha for her. But here's the kicker – Sasha is Irina's mother."

My eyes shoot back to the couple; "so wait… she's his step-daughter?"

"Ex-stepdaughter. They've been married for three years now, although there has been allegations that he cheated on Irina with her younger sister Tanya."

"Jesus," I breathe – eyes locked on the pair "It all sounds so… incestuous."

"Tanya is actually here as well, she's the one on the table nearest to the stage. The strawberry blonde."

I zone in on the table in question. 'Tanya' is dressed as a mermaid – shells and blue glitter sprinkled throughout her wavy hair. She is beyond gorgeous and again, I feel so out of my depth.

"Is Sasha here too?"

"She has been shunned from social events like this."

"What?" I ask, startled "but… why is she the one being banished if she is Esme's friend? And especially if the ones who betrayed her are here."

"An _old_ friend of Esme's."

"Huh?"

Edward attempts to run his hand through his hair, nearly knocking off his hat.

"Esme decides who comes to these things, and Sasha in considered a sham in this world. After Laurent left her, she went into this deep meltdown. A 'midlife crisis' as Esme puts it." Edward's face scrunches up in disgust at Esme's cruelty, "She blew all the money she got out of divorce settlement, and went to clubs, sleeping with a load of guys. She eventually got pregnant by some twenty year old student, and no one has really heard from her since."

I look back at Irina and Laurent with fresh eyes. I try to imagine how her mother feels, every time she sees her daughter and ex husband together, at events that she probably attended, with friends who may have gone to their wedding.

"This sounds like a storyline straight out of _Gossip Girl_."

"I am going to pretend like I know what you're talking about."

" _Gossip Girl!_ You must've heard of it, we live in New York for crying out loud."

"Hey, you never heard of _Suits_ until I brought it up."

I poke my finger hard into his chest, playfully; his eyes dance with humour.

"Okay, okay. Smartass."

His arms encircle my waist and his laughter makes us both shake. In our silly haze, I notice that the revulsion in people's stares have melted into curiosity, although nobody tries to approach us. Foolishly, I begin to believe that it will stay like this for the rest of the evening. Him telling me all the gossip, with soft touches and adoring kisses.

Fuck, I wish.

"Anthony. You're late."

I instantly feel Edward's posture stiffen, and his wandering hands pause their perusal of my back. Tilting my chin back, I try to look into his eyes – to reassure him.

This time he isn't alone. He has me by his side, and _nothing_ this woman could do or say would tear me away from him.

It is shocking and mildly concerning to see the contortion of Edward's face – _my Edward_ – into the cold mask of Anthony Cullen. His jaw locks and his lips form into one thin line, like a grimace. His eyes, that usually sparkle with mischief has disappeared; they looked guarded, locked behind me, steely.

I turn quickly to identify the culprit of his anxiety.

"Esme."

Dressed as Cleopatra, Esme Cullen revels in her regal role. There is almost an ethereal beauty about her, as her long white dress billows around her ankles. It is nearly the same colour of her skin, which is flawless porcelain, void of any lines or sags. The shade of her eyebrows indicates that she is a redhead like Edward but her hair is invisible, due to a silky black wig and elaborate, golden headpiece.

Yet, there is also something inheriently… ugly about her. Perhaps it is the lack of lines on her face. While I'm not against surgery, I have never quite understood the desire behind it. I have always thought that every single line told a story. With my father, the laugh lines stand for every happy memory of my childhood that we spent together, every joke he's shared with Mark and Wayland, every moment he has had with Sue. Even his frown lines, which represent the times he worried about me having a boyfriend in high school and riding on my motorcycle.

But, none of that is visible of Esme Cullen's face. It is empty, a shell.

Her ruby red smile is neither happy nor joyful at seeing her adopted son. It is so fake, a show for all the people who are watching this little family drama unfolding.

Then lastly, there are her eyes. Eyes that is so eerily similar to my Edward's, but so different. Whilst Edward's emeralds always shine with love and affection for me – Esme's eyes are _cold._ I have to repress a shudder at the mere thought of ever seeing Edward's like this.

"Your behaviour has been less than impressive Anthony. You have spent your whole time entertaining your… guest, and ignored mine. I thought I brought you up better than that."

I catch on to the fact that she called the people here, her guests rather than Rosalie's – despite this being her party. But I have no time to further contemplate it as Edward's fingers clench around me. This time I am the one who is soothing him.

Amazingly, his face remains blank of emotion "I am simply trying to ease Bella into this sort of environment, Esme. You know how overwhelming these things can be. Bella, this Esme – my _Aunt._ "

Esme's lips form into a tight line at Edward's introduction of her, eyes flaring with fury. "Anthony, I am your _mother._ I raised you after all," her tone reeks of venom.

Edward however, just smirks at her "the day I accept that you are my mother, _Esme,_ is the day you accept my name is Edward Mason."

I stare at Edward, pride seeping through my body. The conviction of his words is so powerful, that I swear I see Esme flinch.

She doesn't acknowledge this however, choosing to remain silent, but her glare speaks a thousand words.

"Anthony…"

"Where is Carlisle, Esme?"

Esme ruffles at the quick change of subject, her arms crossing in a gesture of defence "if you had showed up earlier, you would have seen him. Sadly, your father had to leave early for work. There was an emergency."

"Of course," Edward states coldly, "there is always an 'emergency.'"

They stare at one another, green versus green, one with disgust and defiance, the other sadistic.

Esme is the first to break the connection, with that plastic smile returning with vengeance. She turns to me, ignoring Edward's scowl.

"Bella." She says sweetly.

Let's just say – it takes everything within me, to find a cordial greeting. I try to copy that saccharine smile of hers, adding an extra dash of false sweetness to my response.

"Mrs Cullen. This is a beautiful party. You must be very proud of your daughter for hosting such a lovely event."

She looks around the room; her face still smiling but there is an underlying disapproval. It is easy to recognise through the twitch of her lips and hardening of her otherwise emotionless eyes.

"I suppose… although, the band is less than satisfactory. Singing all these… chart songs. It's beyond ridiculous. I specifically told Rosalie to book 'Meyer's Orchestra', but she left it to last minute. Stupid girl."

I stare at her blankly, disbelieving of the disrespectful way she had spoken of her only daughter. "For her to get a band this good, at such a late stage is very admirable."

Edward grins down at me, but says nothing. Esme however, appears to have swallowed a lemon.

"I guess so," she simpers through the gritted teeth of her smile "if you enjoy trashy, mainstream music."

I swallow heavily, my heart thundering in my chest.

"I have quite an eclectic taste," I shrug "Edward and I went to the Breaking Dawn festival for our first date."

Esme hums, sending daggers at Edward "how generous of him." The word 'generous' sounds like a curse from her lips.

Edwards arm tightens around my waist, "only the best for my Bella. And on that topic, I am going to get us some drinks. We'll see you later."

Without waiting for her to reply, Edward spins us in the opposite direction towards the bar. I look over my shoulder to see Esme's reaction – and I am not disappointed. The woman looks like she should be breathing fire. Her whole face, flushed a deep red, and hands clenched into tight balls at her waist.

"You shouldn't have done that."

"I don't care about that woman Bella, or what she says. But if she looks at you that way again, I am going to rip her head off."

I stop, making him halt "baby, you don't have to worry about me with Esme, I can handle myself."

He exhales, "I know that, and I am so proud of how you were with her just now. Trust me when I say, I know how difficult it is to remain polite with her. Hell, you did a much better job than me."

"It took a lot," I admit "I am just glad we have dealt with her."

Edward half-smiles, "for some reason, I don't think that's the last we'll see of her tonight."

Oh well, a girl can dream.

…

"How do you put up with this?" I ask, exhaustion ebbing away at my voice. Since speaking with Esme, we had been bombarded with guests – all of whom have been desperate to meet Edward. A part of me wonders if all of this is Esme's doing, as if she is trying to keep us from descending back into our bubble.

I wouldn't put it past her.

"With difficulty. It has gotten harder as I've gotten older, to be honest. When I was young, this whole 'meet and greet' was driven into me like a second nature."

"I can't even imagine. I was such a shy kid growing up, I was always hiding behind my father's legs."

Edward chuckles, rubbing my side "Well you've definitely grown out of that stage. You have been amazing tonight Bella. I think people have preferred talking to you than me this evening."

I feel my cheeks glow at his praise, "I sincerely doubt that. They are all too caught up by your miraculous appearance."

He snorts at my observation, evidently disagreeing.

"Y'know, I think I have met at least one of Rosalie's friends tonight. The rest have been Esme and Carlisle's. What's up with that? I thought this was her party?"

When Edward turns to face me fully, I am saddened by a childlike sorrow that is visible in his features. I wrap my arms around him, propping my chin against his chest so I can still see him.

He hugs me to him gratefully, "Bella… Rose and I never had friends when we were children. Esme handpicked everyone we hung out with; the school we went to was occupied by rich or famous kids. The parties we attended were usually full of adults. Any people we did make friends with, Esme had checked out and if not approved – we were forced to disintegrate all ties with them.

That changed for me after I learned the truth about my mother. I decided Esme no longer had control over me. She never tried to contradict me, in fear that if she further pushed me, I would act out to an even bigger extent… Reputation is so important to Esme and while she kept my potential expulsion and 'small' drink problem concealed, I think she was scared of what I was capable of.

Rosalie never broke out of her control. She admires Esme too much. To Rosalie, Esme is the glamorous, beautiful mother who is highly respected in society. Who has the world at her feet. Nothing has ever deterred Rose from wanting her mother's approval."

I look over my shoulder, seeking out Rosalie.

She is apart of one of the largest groups of people within the room, making them laugh. Dressed impeccably as Marilyn Monroe. Upon sight alone, everything about Rosalie Cullen fits the costume. From her appearance, the iconic white dress that fits her body like a glove, her golden hair that has been fashioned into the layered bob and rouge lips. All the way, down to her persona with her sultry gazes, delicate laughter and high level of charisma.

No one would ever guess that behind this confident woman, is a girl desperate for her mother's affection. My heart aches for her and Edward. To grow in the clutches of such a controlling parental figure, and for Rosalie – to have not one true friend in the world...

"It's so sad. How doesn't she see it?"

He shrugs, "when it comes to this world, she sees it all through rose-tinted spectacles. Of course Rosalie has acquaintances through the modelling industry. Hell, they may even be considered as friends. But every single one of them have been pre-approved by Esme."

As I continue to watch Rosalie, a thought from earlier that day pops into my head – "Edward… has Rosalie ever met Emmett?"

The question causes Edward to withdraw from me, nonplussed.

"How… what makes you say that?"

"It's just… the way Emmett spoke about her. I asked him if he had met any of your family, and he got so defensive over her. I've never seen him shut something down so quickly before."

Edward rubs his eyes, "Rosalie and Emmett have a very… complicated history, Bella."

"What happened?"

"Honestly? I don't even know. One night, I was working at the bar where Emmett and I first met. I was in my first year at Julliard at the time, and it was probably my first taste of freedom from Esme. I was cleaning tables when Rosalie walked in.

At first, I thought it was some twisted plan of Esme's – I mean, who got their sixteen year old daughter to spy on their nineteen year old nephew in some rough bar at Brooklyn. I later found out that Rosalie and Esme had gotten into a massive fight that night, and she sought me out for understanding. But it wasn't me she ended up talking to. It was – "

"Emmett," I whisper.

He nods, looking over at Rosalie; who continues to entertain her guests without a care in the world.

"Emmett was twenty-four and Rose was sixteen so nothing romantic happened. But Rose became a frequent visitor, and her and Emmett formed a close bond. I thought she had found another brother-like figure within her life. Fuck, she was closer to him than she ever was with me. She told Emmett everything. He was like her secret-keeper or something. Then when she turned eighteen, something a lot deeper than friendship started to grow between them."

"They _dated_?"

Holy shit! I try to picture Em – my teddy bear with his jovial laughter and calm demeanour with the beautiful, untouchable Rosalie. They would make a picture-perfect couple, but it is still a difficult image to conjure.

"They dated for about six months. Then… they just ended. I don't know what happened; just that it wasn't amicable. Emmett will not even mention her name to me, and she pretends as if he never existed. It's bizarre. How one moment they could be so in love; practically attached to the hip, to so… not. All those weeks ago, when Rose came to Eclipse – that was the first time I had seen her in my working environment for four years, give or take."

"He got so cagey when I brought it up…"

"Rosalie is a very sore subject for Em. Its best not to bring it up around him. I'm sorry, I should've said something, but after time I guess I forgot."

"It's crazy."

He laughs humourlessly, "Trust me, I know. When I found out about – even after seeing in unfold in front of me – I couldn't believe it. At first I was angry with Emmett, thought he was taking advantage of a young girl. But, it is _Emmett._ I trust him with my life."

"Do you think Esme knew about it?"

He turns thoughtful, "I don't think so. She most definitely wouldn't have approved; her little girl with a dropout turned bartender? And an older one at that? The horror."

I giggle, but the sound is hollow in my ears. I feel pity stir deep inside me. Sympathy for Emmett and Rosalie's doomed relationship and for Rosalie who continues to act as Esme's puppet.

"I ain't barging in on something, am I?"

Edward and I glance up at our intruder, who just happens to be a very pretty man in his early twenties. His eyes are a jade green, complimenting his olive skin and glossy, black hair. They look even more gorgeous with the combo of gold eyeliner he has applied.

"Jared!"

Edward and the guy – Jared exchange one of those man-slap-hug things, and the laid back smile reappears on Edward's face.

"Bella, this is Jared Wolff. Jared, this is my girlfriend, Bella Swan."

Jared gives me an easy smile, "Pleasure to meet you Miss Swan. I always wondered when Tony would settle down," he throws in a playful wink at Edward.

I raise a brow at Edward, "Tony?"

He winces at the term of address, "No matter how many times I tell him to stop calling me that, it never seems to go through."

Jared and I laugh at him heartily, and I finally relax. With the amount of people we had met within the last hour, this is the first time I have felt truly comfortable in someone's company outside of Edwards.

"Ha ha," Edward rolls his eyes, good-naturedly.

"You guys have been awfully popular tonight, it's like we've been lining up to see _Mickey Mouse_ from _Disney World_. Mind you, maybe it's because of your stunning entrance. Honestly – you two look hot as shit."

I blush deeply, "Thank you, I hope we don't disappoint."

"Never," Jared snickers "you are probably some of the few tolerable people here tonight."

Edward takes a sip from his champagne, muttering a dry "tell me about it."

"So how'd you guys know each other?" Jared is so unlike all the other people whom Edward is friends with. Perhaps he was a dancer in Julliard, his lithe body certainly suggested so.

"Rose and I worked on the _Burburry_ Fall Line together, when we were like… ten? eleven? Anthony occasionally tagged along to the photo-shoots."

"Forcibly!" Edward interjects "I think Esme was hoping you'd rub off on me," he turns to me "Jared was the son Esme always wanted."

This time Jared rolls his eyes, "Only because I don't have one camera-shy bone in my body. Esme was desperate to get Tony into modelling. Him and Rose together could have been the new and improved Kaia and Presley Gerber!"

I giggle at Edward's expression.

"Anyway, how've you been man? It's been forever. And where did you find this little treasure? On one of Rosalie's many fashion escapades?"

"Tagging along to photo-shoots is now long behind me thankfully," Edward smirks, "we met at a club actually. 'Eclipse'."

"I have been dying to go there!" Jared exclaims, "I have heard nothing but good things, and apparently the bosses are a bit of eye candy too!"

He wiggles his eyebrows making me laugh again.

I sneak a glance at Edward slyly; "Well I certainly have a soft spot for one of them…"

His eyes twinkle with humour while Jared howls, "watch out Tony boy, you may have some competition!"

Edward slips his arm around me, and pulls me towards him; kissing the side of my head, "I think I may have won this fight…"

"Oh, I don't know." I tease, "Emmett is pretty cute…"

Edward's incessant tickling cuts me off, his fingers slipping under my arms and moving up and down my sides.

"S-stop!"

"Minx," He whispers affectionately but giving up his tickle-fest.

"God, you guys are sickeningly sweet. You're giving me toothache."

We both look over at Jared, who just stares at us amused.

"Don't be jealous Jare" Edward jabs with good humour.

Jared's eyes sparkle, "Actually my good friend, jealousy is far from it. You guys remind me of Liam and I."

My curiosity spikes, "Liam?"

"He's here somewhere…" Jared looks around intently, then he flashes the dimples - "Oh, here he is!"

Jared's has long forgotten Edward and I as he sets his eyes on a tall, handsome male. He is about Edward's height, but in contrast to Jared's boyishness, everything about this guy says 'man.' He has brown, wavy hair that settles a little below the nape of his neck. His jaw line is sharp and his brown eyes warm as he looks at Jared.

Jared gazes at him, and they entwine fingers in a fluid motion.

"Guys, this is my boyfriend Liam. Liam, this is Anthony Cullen and his girlfriend Bella."

Liam smiles at us warmly, offering his hand.

"It's great to meet you, I've always wondered about the mysterious Anthony Cullen" he comments in a thick Irish accent.

Edward chuckles in embarrassment, "it's nice to meet you Liam. I can guarantee that I won't live up to any of your expectations."

Liam shakes his head good naturedly "well your outfits have already earned you a place in my good books. You look badass."

"I know, right? Why didn't we think about Bonnie and Clyde?"

Liam grins "Because I haven't got the legs to be Bonnie, and you had your heart set on being a werewolf after watching Taylor Lautner."

"Man, that boy is fine" Jared groans making Edward and I laugh, and Liam roll his eyes "Liam can't say much though. I bought him a poster of Robert Pattinson for our first anniversary."

As they begin to squabble teasingly, Edward leans into me to whisper.

"Esme has glared over here at least seven times. Looks like someone isn't too happy that the spotlight isn't on her tonight."

I take a glimpse over my shoulder, eyes meeting the woman herself. She looks away quickly; talking animatedly to the Irina girl, fake smile omnipresent.

"Bitch."

My eyes shoot back to Liam who glares over at Esme. Jared rubs his back comfortingly, giving me a half smile.

"Esme isn't the biggest… advocate for our relationship."

Liam barks out a laugh, "understatement of the century. I grew up in Ireland in a Catholic family. Growing up I was always so unaccepted. Then I came here, met Jare… I felt as though I had finally found the place I belonged. Esme Cullen is the only person who has made feel otherwise, since I moved to the States."

"I'm sorry" Edward says lowly "I am not going to excuse Esme's actions. But I know how it feels. Too feel unaccepted by her."

Liam and Edward share a small smile, whilst Jared and I hug our respective halves.

"We're here for Rose, baby" Jared murmurs, "She has always been a great friend to us."

"And yet Esme is the one running the show… as always."

As Jared goes to reply, a portly man interrupts – grey eyes firmly on Edward. He looks like the Monopoly man with his dark suit, silver waistcoat and top hat.

"Sorry to intrude, but are you Anthony Cullen?"

Edward's fingers stop fidgeting with the loose string of my sweater as he raises a hand to shake the unknown man's, "Yes. Sorry, I don't think I have had the pleasure…"

The man grins amiably, shaking his hand enthusiastically "Santiago Lopez. And believe me Mr Cullen, the pleasure is all mine."

My boyfriend smiles a little confused, "Mr Lopez, this is my girlfriend Bella and friends Jared and Liam."

After exchanging pleasantries, Santiago places all his attention back on Edward, "I must say, I have been waiting awhile to meet you Mr Cullen. Would it be possible if I could speak to you… in private?"

Santiago gives him a hopeful look and I know this is about something important.

Edward immediately looks to me, arm tightening around my waist "well…"

"That's fine!" I hurry to insert "go ahead baby."

"Are you sure?" He says in a soft undertone "what if Esme ambushes you?"

I smile up at him reassuringly "I'll be fine. Just hurry back to me."

He kisses my forehead, "always.

Facing our audience, Edward looks at Jared and Liam with mock command "look after my girl while I'm gone."

As I roll my eyes, Jared salutes him "yes sir."

Santiago grins in delight, placing a hand on Edward's back as they walk away. My eyes don't leave their figures until I lose them in the sea of people. It is only when Jared releases a dreamy sigh that I realise I am not alone.

"Anthony Cullen was more beautiful than he was when he was thirteen… and _that's_ saying something."

"What was he like?" I ask.

"Well, a bit of a grump" Jared laughs "he really did hate coming along to the photo-shoots. He would just sit in the corner and read or sleep. But he gave all us a show. Seriously, he was better looking than over half the male models – he just wouldn't smile for the camera."

I try to picture a thirteen-year-old Edward Mason.

Same tousled hair and expressive green eyes but with a softer looking face and ganglier frame… all brooding and silent. My heart squeezes; this was when was downward spiralling, in the midst of losing his real mother. A time when he did not even, know Emmett. He must have felt so alone.

"He smiles a lot more, I see. Hell, he has smiled more tonight than I ever saw in our teenage years. He looks happy."

"I hope so. I've been happier than I ever have been, since I met him."

"Well, I know that I've known you for ten minutes Bella, but I can already see you two are perfect for each other. That man can't take his eyes off you. He is so in love with you."

I can feel my cheeks go pink, "I love him too… So much."

"That's obvious" Liam grins wryly "you would have to be, to deal with his mother."

"Honestly, tonight was the first time I met her. E- Anthony kept her from me for a long time. At first, I thought it was because he was embarrassed of me… or that he thought I'd want him for his money. But now…"

"Now you know she is a stuck up, cruel bitch who cares more about her reputation than she does her own children."

I shake my head in morose "I just don't get it. Seeing what an amazing man Anthony is and how sweet Rosalie seems, how can they be raised by that woman?"

Liam shrugs "God has a wicked sense of humour. But make no mistake Bella, Anthony seems like a stand up guy but Rosalie… she's great, but she will do just about anything for her mother. If Esme didn't like Jared so much, then make no mistake – we wouldn't be here. Rosalie is a little girl when it comes to her. Just be careful when trusting her."

I nod carefully, "have you met Carlisle?"

"Dr. Cullen is nice enough" Jared remarks, "he's soft though. Esme walks all over him… it's lucky that he is out of the house as often as he is."

"I think it's clear who wears the trousers in that relationship" Liam adds.

We all stay quiet for a moment, in thoughtful but companionable silence.

So, Carlisle was okay – in comparison to Esme that is. Did he know about Esme's hold over Edward? And if he didn't, could he help us? Did he know anything more about Edward's father?

I know when Elizabeth gave up Edward for Esme and Carlisle to adopt, Edward thought it was because she was too young and that it could potentially effect her family's reputation.

However, she knew what Esme was like. She bullied Elizabeth, for most of her childhood.

And maybe Elizabeth thought familial love would prevail and that it wouldn't be like that for Edward, but something told me – there was something _more_ to the story.

She couldn't have fully trusted Esme…

So why give her son to her?

Was Carlisle the answer?

…

I stayed with Jared and Liam for half an hour before excusing myself to the bathroom. Before that however, I exchanged numbers with Jared – with the promise that he, Alice and I would get together for a coffee some time.

As I wash my hands, I glance in the mirror. I have to double take, shortly forgetting my blonde hair.

I'm tempted to pull the wig off and remove all the metal pins from my hair, but I comfort myself with the fact that we probably won't be here for much longer.

Edward was still talking to Santiago (about what, I wasn't sure), but then we would leave and escape to the safe haven of Edward's apartment.

"Tired, Isabella?"

I jump, spinning around to face Esme. She ignores my stare, walking to the mirror inspecting herself. I get the faint impression that she is waiting for my answer.

"Not at all."

She moves her red lipstick around her lips in a circular motion, eyes meeting mine in the mirror.

"It's sweet you know… in a puppy dog sort of way – how you look at Anthony."

"Wha-"

She holds up her free hand in a signal to stop, "you've known him for what? A month? Oh, sweetie – you don't know who he really is."

"I-"

She looks at me then, "Just be quiet, and listen like the good girl you are."

Esme circles around me, her movement reminiscent of a vulture, ready to swoop in on her prey.

"You aren't what I expected."

I raise an eyebrow at her in silent question.

"I had you looked up. Of course, I did. Nothing of great interest… Daughter of a divorced cop and housewife… 4.0 GPA, attending NYU… Not even one speeding ticket."

I don't say anything, waiting for the inevitable "but", but she just pulls at her skin – searching for those invisible wrinkles and lines – not bothering to even look at me.

"For any other man, I am sure you'd be a catch Isabella. The perfect 'girl-next-door'."

Finally, she turns to me with a condescending smirk present "but for this world… you are _nothing._ Just a small town girl trying to make her way in the big city… you think you're special because my son noticed you? Anthony has always been the black sheep. He's like his Aunt in that regard, and she was always picking up strays too. So listen here – quit while you're ahead. It's not a threat, just a warning.

There are more _suitable_ women right here. Women of his decorum, who are from good families, attended Ivy League schools and respectful careers. He has had his little rebellious stage – being friends with that oaf, owning a bar, _you._ But he is back now. With his real family. Understand?"

I am frozen. So completely and utterly gobsmacked by this woman's vile attack on my persona. I don't even know what to feel, because up until this point – I thought this myself.

I told Edward I was nobody – he could have anyone on his arm.

Yet, his words swirl around my head…

 _You are successful. You are set to graduate at the top of your class with a first class degree. You have impressed one of the greatest editors within the industry…_

 _You are the woman I love._

Then the anger takes over. I am beyond furious. I am fucking livid. How _dare_ she?

This woman made the love of my life feel like nothing. Who continues to treat him like a puppet?

She had no control over Edward and certainly, no control over me… and it was about time she was aware of it.

"You are _not_ his mother."

She stops, hand resting on the doorknob and back facing me; "what the fuck, did you just say to me?"

I walk up behind her so that we are close enough to touch.

"You are not his mother, and his name is not Anthony Cullen. My boyfriend is Edward Mason – son of Elizabeth Platt and Edward Mason Senior. And I can safely say – Elizabeth Platt had more grace and class that you had, in her pinky finger."

Esme whips around – nostrils flaring – but I can tell I have stunned her. She is breathing so heavily, that she can't even get a word out; but the hatred rolls off her in waves.

"Yes, I am a small town girl, and yes Edward _is_ too good for me. He is generous and kind; thoughtful, sweet, sensitive – and he has the most beautiful soul. I love him more than anything in this world, and unlike some people – I am going to show him that everyday, for the rest of my life. Because Esme Cullen – nothing you can do, will make me let go of him."

I look her right in the eye and beam, showing all the love I have for Edward in that one smile – before walking around her and out of the room – feeling like a weight has lifted from my chest.

When I reach the main room, a cold hand grips my shoulder.

"Listen here you – "

"Mom!"

Esme's serpentine gaze weighs on me for a few more moments, before she turns to her daughter.

Rosalie, unassuming to what she has just interrupted, smiles brightly to her mother. The sight vaguely reminds me of a little girl, showing her mother a painting she had made in school or something. It's very childlike, and again I feel a pang of sympathy for her – especially when I see the bored look on Esme's face.

"Rosalie, sweetheart. Can't you see that I am talking to Isabella?"

The adolescent gleam in Rosalie's sapphire eyes dims, as she bristles under Esme's coldness. In an effort to escape it, she turns to me – scarily similar to her mother with that plastic smile.

"I'm so sorry to disturb you both. You must be Anthony's Isabella… Bella, right?"

I smile kindly at her, "That's me. It's great to meet you Rosalie, although I think we were kind of introduced once…"

"I remember," Rose, agrees "my brother was a particularly big asshole that night. I hope his bad mood didn't effect your evening."

I grin covertly, remembering that night in the office; Edward's tongue doing unspeakable things to my body…

"He got over it."

"Actually, it's great that I've found you. My friend has been looking for you... Jacob! Bella is here!"

I stare at her, bewildered "Jacob?"

Rosalie ignores me, waving over 'Jacob', somewhere behind me. However, Esme's eyes never leave my face – searching for something.

"Ladies."

At the sound of Jacob's voice, my stomach lurches. I whirl towards him, fighting fiercely to keep up my cheerful façade.

Jacob Black looks undoubtedly handsome in his khaki overalls and mirrored sunglasses. He definitely gave Tom Cruise a run for his money.

He pushes the glasses onto the top of his head, eyes sparking with recognition.

"Bella! Wow. I would never of recognised you. Blonde suits you."

I tug on a blonde strand uncomfortably, "Oh, um, thank you. I think Anthony prefers the brunette though."

"Well, I for one think you look beautiful as both."

I fiddle with the edge of my jumper, looking at Rosalie – eyes begging for help.

"So… how did you two meet?" Esme implores with strained politeness.

Jacob flashes her his iconic grin "Rose's party actually. Bella and I bumped into one another…"

I avoid Jacob's gaze by looking over to the dance floor. The bouncy music slowly becomes much softer and romantic; the strumming of the guitar echoes around the room and the buzz of people chatting quietens slightly. Groups move away, whilst couples move on and position themselves in a waltz-like pose. Combined with the flickering flames of the candles and the sight of the large chandeliers, the scene was picturesque – something from out of a movie or TV show.

"Why don't you and Jacob go dance, Isabella?"

My body automatically tenses at the thought; I smile tightly at Esme, whose lips curve into that snake-like smirk.

"Oh no" I laugh nervously "I don't dance."

Rosalie giggles girlishly "But didn't you meet Jake on the dance floor? And Anthony at Eclipse?"

I can barely control my glare at Rosalie; feeling slightly betrayed "I don't know…"

"Oh come on, Isabella – it's only one dance. You wouldn't want to disappoint one of our star guests, would you?" Esme's eyes dance with delight at my discomfort. Jacob laughs with her, not seeing the intentions behind it.

"Just one dance" I compromise.

"Sure, sure" Jacob winks, "excuse us ladies."

I can feel Rosalie and Esme's gazes burn into my back as I lead Jacob to the dance floor. Where is Edward?

 _Give me love, like her_

' _Cause lately I've been waking up alone_

Jacob and I slip into an identical position to the other pairs, I stare over his shoulder searching for that familiar bronze hair. Consumed by my desire to see him, I fail to hear Jacob talking to me.

"Sorry, what?"

He chuckles, "oh, nothing. Just commenting on how pushy Rosalie and Esme can be."

I snigger darkly, "You could say that…"

"You don't think Anthony will mind me, stealing you away?"

I don't really know what to say to that. The question seems to hold some double entrée, sending alarm bells ringing.

"Uhh…"

"He's lucky to have you."

I laugh again, this time nervously; "no I think I am the lucky one."

He looks down at me, that iconic smile playing at his lips "I have to disagree. You're beautiful, friendly, kind..."

I look down at our feet, trying to find my voice, "Jacob, you don't even know me."

"But I want to… I went looking for you, y'know."

I pull back, startled. His dark eyes watch me, carefully, assessing; I cough uncomfortably.

"Jacob, I don't know what you're trying to achieve. You are perfectly aware that I have a boyfriend."

He shrugs "You're not married Bella… or engaged, for that matter. Technically you're still a free agent."

His words sent a bolt of anger through my body. I halt our movements, wiggling my hand away from his – "I'm not a _free agent_ Jacob. I love him. It will always be him."

"Hey, hey, hey" he says quickly "okay."

He hesitantly takes my hands into his, and I reluctantly begin to move with him again.

The megawatt smile has dropped; "I'm sorry, its just Rosalie said..."

I furrow my eyebrows, confused "what?"

"Rose has been saying that you and Anthony aren't exclusive, that you're just the flavour of the month."

My nostrils flare angrily, I search for the devious blonde; feeling the desperate need to wring her neck. All the sympathy I held for her before leaves my body, and is replace by pure hatred. How dare she?

"And I thought we had something…"

"Jacob, Edward and I are very much together. And we literally met once."

"But Bella," he whines, "I saw the awe in your eyes when we first met. It was the same amazement I felt – you can't deny it."

I bark out a laugh in disbelief, "I'm sorry? Are you aware of how famous you are? Of course I was fucking amazed to bump into a celebrity!"

"It was more than that!" he says stubbornly.

 _God, he's lucky he can sing, because this boy is fucking dense._

"Excuse me Jacob, but may I steal _my_ girlfriend?"

I can feel my whole body melt at the sound of his voice alone. I look at Edward, but his eyes are firmly set on Jacob. He looks so handsome. His hat has mysteriously vanished, leaving his hair wild and free, standing in all different directions. His suit jacket has also disappeared; revealing his red braces and white shirt that is unbuttoned at the top.

"Bu-"

"Thanks for the dance, Jake." I smile sweetly, pulling myself out of his grasp.

 _Give me love, like never before_

' _Cause lately I've been craving more._

I place my hand into Edward's, that familiar thrum of electricity racing up my arm as our skin touches.

 _And it's been a while, but I still feel the same…_

He twirls me away from a stunned Jacob, his green gaze finally settling on me.

"Hey."

I sigh, entwining our fingers together "Hey."

"I'm sorry I left you with them, baby. Santiago wouldn't stop."

"It's okay, you're here now, thank you for saving me."

"Anytime," he smiles, bending low to kiss the flesh below my ear "it looked pretty tense… did he say anything to you?"

I swallow thickly, "he flirted mostly."

His body goes rigid, "what?"

"It wasn't wholly his fault!" I'm quick to add, but that only serves to make him angrier.

"What do you mean? How can him flirting with you, not be wholly his fault?"

I stare studiously at our feet – marvelling at the shine of his Italian shoes.

"Bella?"

Sighing, I look up "Look, he just got the wrong impression…"

"The wrong impression? I know I was talking to Santiago for a while, but other than that I haven't left your side all night."

"I don't think it was that…"

"Bella," Edward huffs frustrated "what's going on?"

"He said… Apparently, Rosalie has been telling people that we aren't exclusive. That I am just you're flavour of the month."

Edward slows, his ears turning red. I can feel his heart hammering – that's how close we are. He flexes his hands around mine and I can tell he is close to exploding.

"She – that _fucking"_ He spat, trying to find words.

"Shh," I calm him "shh, stop. I told Jacob. And after you saving me, I think he got the message."

"That's not good enough Bella!" he exclaimed "all these people. Poking their noses in, trying to _break_ us… I am not having it. Esme already controls my business, I am not letting her control our relationship."

"You think I'd let her do that?" I question furiously. I stop in the middle of the dance floor – not caring about the other dancers around us. I focus on the man in front of me, holding his face between my hands and forcing his eyes down to me.

"She _won't_ break us, Edward. We love each other. It's you and me."

Against the world.

 _ **The party isn't over folks! Part two will be here next Sunday – and there is not going to be smooth sailing for our Bella and Edward.**_

 _ **Let me know what you think!**_


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